This is the Way the World Ends
by Bethe
Summary: Jarod crosses paths with yet another profiler. But this one's different...
1. Prologue

This is the Way the World Ends  
  
By Bethe  
  
~*~  
  
Disclaimer: The characters of tP don't belong to me. I'm just using them as life-sized Barbies and Kens.  
  
~*~  
  
Jarod adjusted his identification tag on the lapel of his jacket and opened the doors in front of him. He purposefully strode into the building teeming with life.  
  
"Agent Howard?" he asked after approaching a man clad similarly in black. The man turned around and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Yes. And you are?"  
  
"Special Agent Jarod Morris," he answered, extending his hand. Howard nodded, and put down the sandwich he was holding to shake Jarod's hand.  
  
"Of course. Atlanta office?"  
  
"Somewhere around there," he answered cryptically. "Care to fill me in? It's been a long flight." Jarod genuinely smiled. Howard nodded once more and picked his sandwich back up.  
  
"Walk with me," he said. "Jerry Walters, age 35. Got on a whacked out trip. Shot himself right between the eyes. Really, it's open and shut, but Headquarters is hell-bent on fully investigating it. They're even sending a VCTF profiler." The two shared a look. "I think HQ is overreacting. But, as always, their word is final." Jarod nodded.  
  
"So, where am I needed?" he asked.  
  
~*~  
  
Jarod went over the photos once more. Things just weren't adding up. He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  
  
"Morris, I'd like you to meet Agent Carlyle. She's the profiler for the case," Jarod heard behind him. He turned around and gasped. "What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost."  
  
Jarod swallowed before he could manage, "It feels that way." Standing before him, dressed in professional garb and holding a case file, was Miss Parker. Or, should he say, Miss Carlyle?  
  
She extended her hand and raised her eyebrows as she said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Agent. . .?"  
  
"Morris. Jarod Morris," he filled in as he took her hand and shook it firmly. "What have you got?" Parker opened her manila folder and sifted through some papers before pulling out one.  
  
"We think it's a serial killer whose calling card is drugging up his victims, then making it look like a suicide, or a drug-related homicide." Jarod raised his eyebrows skeptically.  
  
"And what makes you think this case is linked with all the others?"  
  
"Because the last murder took place exactly one month to the minute."  
  
"Could be coincidence."  
  
"And I could become the Queen of England," she retorted with a familiar sneer. "But that ain't happening anytime soon, honey," she added with a shake of her head.  
  
"I'll admit," Jarod replied a bit forcefully, "that suicide doesn't seem likely, but serial murder victim? Come on, Carlyle. Bit of a stretch, isn't it?"  
  
"Hey, you two," Agent Howard interrupted, "I suggest you guys gather up all of your facts before you get into a cat fight," he stated, making it a point to look each in the eyes before continuing. "Now, I'm going to take a break. You both had better be civil by the time I return. That's an order." With that, Howard left the conference room. Parker and Jarod just looked at each other for a few moments.  
  
"They told me you were dead," he murmured distastefully, realizing he'd been lied to once again. His eyes searched for the nearest exit. "You've been close before," he said while edging toward the door, "But you've never been ahead of me."  
  
"I'm not chasing you, Jarod," came her quiet reply. She looked at her feet. "To the Centre, I *am* dead. I got out, and they didn't want to lose you. So they told you I was dead, knowing that you wouldn't fully believe it. Knowing that you would think that they had me comatose and captive in some murky sublevel."  
  
"Parker," he began, his eyes softening. She held her hand up to stop him.  
  
"Look, it's either Melanie or Carlyle now. And we can't discuss this at the moment. Let's work on the case. Then you can come to my house for dinner. We'll talk then. Okay?" she asked, her face taking on a professional look. Jarod sighed, then nodded.  
  
"Okay." Melanie Carlyle, for that's who she was now, smiled and dropped her folder on the table. She then walked around, slowly studying the various reports and evidences sheets, when she stopped at one.  
  
"Jarod?" she asked, picking the paper up. He had been watching her since they had fallen silent, so he easily met her eyes. "Have you seen this yet?" Jarod walked over to her and took the sheet out of her hand.  
  
"I must have missed it," he said while scanning its contents. "It seems that Jerry didn't have a habit. Odd, for a man who killed himself on a seemingly regular high," he commented.  
  
"Exactly what I thought," Melanie replied.  
  
"The real question is. . ." Jarod paused as they both looked to each other.  
  
"Whodunit?" they asked quietly in unison. 


	2. Part One

This is the Way the World Ends  
  
By Bethe  
  
~*~  
  
Part One  
  
~*~  
  
Jarod reclined on the sofa in Melanie's den and looked around once more. It was an amazing house. Mid-sized and homey, it looked like nothing the Parker of old would have enjoyed.  
  
The den itself was decorated in a series of blues and tans. The carpet was a creamy light brown burbur, and the walls were cobalt blue. The flaming wood in the rustic oak fireplace popped and cracked, giving the room a cozy atmosphere.  
  
"Jarod?" came Melanie's voice from the kitchen, "Do you like lemon in your tea?" she asked amidst the soft clatter of cutlery. Jarod couldn't help but smile. The closest Miss Parker had come to cooking was take out. And now. . .this. He didn't quite know what to think.  
  
"Uh, no. Plain tea is fine Mi-Melanie." He had to admit that seeing Parker as a profiler was quite an awakening. After getting past the initial shock, the two had scrutinized the evidence the best that two geniuses could. Still, they weren't able to get much farther than to establish that Jerry Walters didn't commit suicide. Finally, Agent Howard had dismissed them with orders to rest up for a long day of hard work.  
  
"Dinner's ready," Melanie stated, suddenly appearing in the doorway of the den. Jarod got up from his spot on the couch and followed her into the dining room. He had been promised a tour later. And based upon his initial impressions of the first two rooms he'd seen, he couldn't wait.  
  
Jarod sat down in front of a cobalt blue, heavy glass plate and a rich green bowl that was filled with a lush salad. The savory aroma drifting from the kitchen was tantalizing his senses, causing him to almost salivate in his anticipation. Out of nowhere, Melanie appeared at the table, setting down a huge casserole dish.  
  
"Manicotti," she said a bit proudly as she produced a spoon and began to give Jarod a heaping portion.  
  
"It looks and smells delicious," Jarod replied. Melanie raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Don't let that fool you. The smell is just the air freshener I sprayed only moments ago to confuse you." The gleam in her eye and the smile that played upon her mouth showed that she was joking. Jarod simply rolled his eyes and stared down at the contents on his plate.  
  
"I don't know where to start," he mused, looking back woman who was now sitting across from him. "The salad looks good, the manicotti looks good--"  
  
"Don't forget about the garlic bread," she reminded him, pointing a finger at the tray between them. "I'd suggest having a bit of the salad first, then the manicotti and bread at the same time." Melanie shared one more smile before sticking her fork into her own salad.  
  
"Mel," Jarod whispered after a few minutes of silence. She looked up at him and could tell what he was thinking. She slowed her chewing, then nodded. She picked up her napkin and dabbed at her mouth before beginning her story.  
  
"You want to know how I came to be this way, right?" Jarod nodded. "Okay. Fair enough. It all started about two years ago, right when Daddy jumped off the plane. Remember?" She chuckled, then ducked her head. "Of course, you remember. I didn't want to end up in a power struggle with Lyle and Raines. Also, you had gotten me to thinking. . .about my future. I began to realize that a life at the Centre was no life at all. And they say I'm a genius?" she asked self-mockingly. "So, I started getting my act together. With Angelo's help, I gathered various tidbits about the Centre: memos, directives, assassination contracts, and the like. Some were almost worthless, and others were pretty hefty. I also put my estate in order, in case I was found out and taken care of before I had gotten away. At the same time, I was creating another personality for me. Identification, credit lines, spending habits, old haunts, even an apartment. When I had gathered enough information on the Centre and completely developed the persona of Melanie Carlyle, I simply didn't show up for work one day. Then the next. And then the next. At first, I didn't know if Raines assumed I was dead somewhere, or not, but that was the story he sold you. Later, via Angelo, I'd heard that Raines knew I was alive. But, he was using my 'memory' to keep your ties to the Centre." Jarod nodded again.  
  
"I saw your grave, Mel," he whispered, his eyes haunted by the ghost of his mourning. "Sydney and I even went together one day, forsaking all the rules of the chase." He laughed mirthlessly. "Why haven't you been caught. It doesn't seem as if you've been running." Melanie looked him straight in the eyes.  
  
"That's exactly the reason why I haven't been captured. I hid out in the open. I took a high profile job, made high profile friends. I made sure that I would definitely be missed if I were taken."  
  
Jarod took a good, long look at his old friend and former huntress. She had definitely changed. She had dyed her hair a brilliant auburn. Anytime the light hit it, her head looked as if it were aflame. Her skin was slightly darker, as if she'd been out in the sun more often. She still had the "Miss Parker" attitude, yet it had been considerably toned down. She wasn't all hard lines and sharp edges; she was softer, gentler, and almost quirky.  
  
"So," he continued after a long stretch of silence, "if you have all this dirt on the Centre, why haven't I heard anything about it?" he asked, skepticism tainting his tone. Melanie sat back and crossed her arms.  
  
"The Centre isn't good enough to go out with a bang. Besides, that's just what they'd expect. When I had just gotten away, I started anonymously dropping mere inter-Centre memos; mild offenses. When my career as a profiler had become more established, I began to pass out evidence of greater importance. Just recently, Pakor was raided by the Feds. It should be appearing in the papers any day now." At the mention of Pakor, Jarod's face took on an odd expression.  
  
"What about the boy? My father? Did you think about them when you started leaving clues around?"  
  
"Jarod," she said, getting his attention, "I left any part about your family out of the information I've supplied. Any mention of you is a vague one: no names supplied. They're safe. Syd and Broots have already been exonerated; they were simply following orders. In time, I'll be able to give out this evidence in person. But that time is not now."  
  
"So, you're really that patient?" he asked. "How long will it take?"  
  
"I don't know at the moment, Jarod. But like I said earlier, the Centre doesn't deserve to go out like that. It's like the quote goes, 'This is the way the world ends; not with a bang, but a whimper."  
  
~*~  
  
"Why a profiler?" Jarod asked while he was putting a plate back in its proper cabinet. "I'm sure there are many other professions that would suit you." Melanie stopped scrubbing the bowl in her hands and stared blankly out the window for a few seconds.  
  
"I don't know," she said finally with a shrug of her shoulders. "It came naturally to me, I guess."  
  
"Does your work consume you?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Yeah, most times," she responded, resuming her bowl-scrubbing. "Getting into the mind of a murderer is so frighteningly easy," she whispered, a haunted look entering her eyes.  
  
"I know how you feel," Jarod murmured. They were both silent for a stretch, each realizing that they shared more than they had previously thought. Then Jarod interrupted the silence by saying, "You have a beautiful home, Mel." She paused her dish-washing once more to look him in the eyes.  
  
"Thanks, Jarod."  
  
~*~  
  
After the tour of the house, Jarod and Melanie were sitting in front of the fire, quietly sipping from mugs of hot cocoa. Melanie, keeping her gaze on the hypnotizing flames, said, "You can stay here as long as you like. The guest room is all ready." Then she looked at him. "I would enjoy having you."  
  
She stood up and stretched before padding out of sight. Jarod could hear movement in the kitchen. He considered her offer, then decided to take her up on it. After they caught Jerry Walters' killer, they had some catching up to do.  
  
"I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Jarod," she murmured sleepily from behind him before placing a quick, gentle kiss on the top of his head. He turned and watched her walk up the stairs to her room. He sighed before realizing that he should probably turn in as well. He had a long and psychologically taxing day ahead of him: he was going to enter the mind of a killer. 


	3. Part Two

This is the Way the World Ends  
  
By Bethe  
  
~*~  
  
Part Two  
  
~*~  
  
Jarod awoke sometime in the night. Or was it early morning? Well, it didn't matter. He was awake, whatever the time. He sat up in the unfamiliar bed and waited until his eyes adjusted to the dark. The fact that the moon was full only helped the matter. Then he heard it; the sound that had roused him from his light slumber.  
  
He got out of bed and walked quietly into the hallway. When he'd reached Melanie's closed door, he stopped and listened. She cried out again, louder than the times previously. He could hear cries of, "No, don't! Stop, please?!" He knocked on the door.  
  
"Parker?" he asked, concern in his tone. Suddenly, all was silent. Then, her door opened, revealing a bleary-eyed Melanie.  
  
"I thought I told you not to call me that again," she mumbled, stifling a yawn. Jarod rolled his eyes.  
  
"Sorry. Force of habit. I thought I heard something. It sounded like someone was hurting you," he replied. Melanie yawned once more before focusing her gaze at Jarod's eyes.  
  
"Oh," she whispered as realization dawned in her eyes. "I was having a nightmare," she explained. "I don't even remember what it was about, just that it wasn't fun." Jarod raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Are you sure?" Melanie raised her eyebrows and took on an innocent look.  
  
"Yes, Father dearest. Scout's honor."  
  
"Parker. . ."  
  
"Jarod. . ."  
  
The two were in a standoff, of sorts. Finally, she sighed and rolled her own eyes.  
  
"Look, Jarod, I'm okay. Really. I'm the Ice Queen, remember?" she asked somewhat jokingly, not noticing the hurt look Jarod took on. "It'll take a lot more than one nightmare to melt me."  
  
"Mel--"  
  
"Goodnight, Jarod," she said a bit forcefully as she shut the door in his face.  
  
~*~  
  
Melanie sat down on her bed after her conversation with Jarod and held her head in her hands. Was it worth it to lie to him like this? Why did she even have to lie? She sighed as she realized that obsessing over this would cause her work to suffer. She regretfully climbed back under the covers. She glanced at the window, which was now open. Shivering, she turned her back on the window and let fearful tears slide down her cheeks.  
  
~*~  
  
"So, ladies, what have we found?" Agent Howard asked teasingly when he walked into the room. He stopped short when he'd had a good look at Melanie. "Carlyle, what the hell happened to your eye?" he asked, shocked. She simply smiled.  
  
"Stupid me. I got up to go to the bathroom last night and decided to be miss big shot and tried to find the way in the dark. I ran right into the door. Bam!" She pointed to the bruise that had formed just above her right eye. "Hurts like hell, but that's what I get for foolish pride." She shrugged and smiled. Howard studied her face for a bit.  
  
"Put some ice on that. That's an order." She nodded solemnly. "Now," he continued, "Back to business. What do we have so far on the Walters case?" Melanie looked to Jarod, indicating with a nod of her head that he could go first.  
  
"It wasn't suicide. It was murder. We just don't know who, or why." Howard lowered his green eyes to the ground momentarily.  
  
"Okay. To the scene of the crime, both of you. You'll have exclusive clearance. See what you can find." Melanie and Jarod nodded simultaneously. Then Howard stood up and walked to the door. Before walking through it, he turned back and looked at Melanie. "Watch out for these," he said, his facial expression completely serious, but his eyes were dancing.  
  
"Yes, sir," she muttered sarcastically, one hand moving up to touch the bruise that was being poked fun at.  
  
~*~  
  
Jarod opened the door to the hotel room where Jerry Walters had been shot and walked in first. Everything had been left exactly as it was the night Walters had died, even down to the spilled cup of coffee on the desk. He suddenly heard a gasp and turned around. Melanie was frozen in the doorway, a lost look on her face.  
  
Had he known, the moment she'd set foot in the room, she'd been transported to the night of the murder. Details were foggy and events happened joltingly, like some crucial parts of film had been cut and the strip had been crudely re-spliced.  
  
As quickly as she had entered that night, she left it, emerging breathless. She looked to Jarod, who was cautiously watching her.  
  
"What?" she snapped, unconsciously reverting to her Parkerisms.  
  
"What did you see?" he asked. Her face relaxed as she quickly recounted what little she had seen. Really, they were things they had already known, only acted out. When she had finished, Jarod nodded. They both went to inspecting the room in silence. Every once in awhile, new little bits of evidence would pop up, but nothing really grabbed their attention.  
  
After being in the room for hours, Jarod frowned and looked around once more. Then, he closed his eyes and regulated his breathing. When he opened them again, he was Jerry Walters. In his mind, he ran through a few possible scenarios, but they came up short. Nothing was making sense. Then an idea popped into his head. He simmed it, and everything started to click.  
  
Melanie was sort of doing the same thing. She took all the information they'd had prior to examining the room, and then all the new evidence and started to put them all together. This killer liked the fear and the twisted respect that murdering rewarded him. And yes, she was sure that it was a "he". But there were no signs whatsoever of a struggle for entry. In fact, one would never even guess that two people had been in the room, with the exception of the footprints. The coffee that had been spilled had congealed somewhat on the floor, but not before it was stepped on by two very different feet wearing different shoes. One print was a tennis shoe; Jerry's print. The other was made by a heavy boot.  
  
Melanie tried to work through the situation in her head, but only dead ends popped up. The same idea that Jarod had popped into her mind at the same time, and she ran it through.  
  
"They were friends," they said simultaneously while looking at each other.  
  
~*~  
  
After they had discovered that bit of information, things fell into place. The case wasn't solved, by any means. But they were closer. After much hassling by Howard, they were dismissed. A weary pair commuted back to Melanie's home and then collapsed in the den.  
  
"What do you want for dinner?" she asked, looking at nothing in particular. Jarod, who had the same look on his face, shrugged.  
  
"I dunno, what do you want for dinner?" he asked monotonously.  
  
"I don't care."  
  
"Me neither."  
  
"Chinese?" she asked, closing her eyes.  
  
"Too Asian," Jarod replied.  
  
"Italian?"  
  
"Had it last night."  
  
"Mexican?"  
  
"Nah, upsets me." Melanie turned and looked at Jarod.  
  
"How 'bout Ben and Jerry's?" she asked, resorting to the one thing she swore she'd never eat for dinner. Jarod, in return, looked at her.  
  
"Phish Food?" he asked, his tone that of a hopeful little boy. Melanie couldn't help but smile.  
  
"Whatever you want, Jarod. It's yours." His grin lit up his face, causing a pang of nostalgia in Mel's chest. "C'mon," she said after a sigh, nodding her head towards the door. "Let's go to Wally World."  
  
"Wally. . .world?"  
  
"Crap. Later. I'll explain later. Let's just go before we fall asleep on the furniture." Jarod got up first and Mel followed. During the drive to Wal-Mart, she explained the finer details about the phenomenon that was Wally World. He'd just about grasped the concept when they arrived. Right after they walked in the doors, it was like a kid going to F.A.O. Schwarz for the first time in his life. Jarod's eyes lit up and they went from aisle to aisle, exploring virtually the entire store. It was amazing to her that Jarod could have spent so much time in that hellhole called the Centre, and then all those years being chased by some very frightening people, not to mention attempting to find his long-lost family, and yet still possess that child-like innocence that distinguished him from the rest.  
  
After making their way throughout the store, the misfit pair bought their ice cream and found a vacant table. They shared small talk and chit-chat while consuming the sugary goodness of Ben and Jerry's. An hour later, Melanie yawned for the eighth consecutive time. Jarod's comfort instinct kicked in then.  
  
"C'mon, Mel. I'll drive back. You look wore out." She merely nodded as they got up. After properly disposing of the empty ice cream containers, Jarod led the way out to the car, opened her door, then got in the driver's seat before they were off.  
  
Within minutes, Melanie had fallen asleep. Jarod didn't notice, however, until a turn that he took caused her head to roll onto his shoulder. The movement caused her to stir slightly. A soft noise escaped her throat as she snuggled her head against his shoulder and hugged his free arm loosely.  
  
Jarod sat very still for a few moments, then looked down at her. She looked so peaceful. The bruise around her eye marred that appearance, though. It didn't really matter. She was beautiful either way.  
  
- Get yourself together, man, - he thought. He was here to do a job; nothing more. He looked at her again, and started to doubt himself. What if this was becoming more than a job, more than a friendship? What if it was becoming something far deeper? Would that be such a terrible thing?  
  
"Well, Mel," he whispered, saying her name in a tone of voice that could only be called a caress, "would it?" 


	4. Part Three

This is the Way the World Ends  
  
By Bethe  
  
~*~  
  
Part Three  
  
~*~  
  
Jarod pulled into Melanie's driveway and turned off the car. Then he looked at her. During the drive, she had somehow shifted herself to the point that her head was resting on Jarod's leg, her hand on his knee. Jarod sighed and brushed her hair away from her face as he whispered, "Mel?" Still asleep, her face contorted into a frown as she mumbled something unintelligibly. "Mel, we're home," he said louder, giving her shoulder a slight squeeze. Nothing.  
  
Jarod sighed once more and smiled to himself. He slid his hands underneath her and pushed her up into a sitting position, making sure she was leaning against the frame of the car. Then he got out of his side and made his way over to her side. In one swift movement, he opened her door and caught her before she fell out. Grunting softly with the effort, he braced one arm around her back while he slipped his other arm underneath her knees and lifted.  
  
Somehow, he managed to shut the car door, open the door to her house, and turn on the lights without dropping her or losing control. He got to her bedroom and pushed the door open with his foot. He gently laid her down on top of her made bed. Then he found a blanket and covered her with it.  
  
"Goodnight, Mel," he whispered. Before he realized what he was doing, he bent down and placed a light kiss on her forehead. At that moment, Melanie sighed and snuggled up with the quilt before turning on her side. The feeling that Jarod experienced then was so strong that he had to sit down in a nearby chair.  
  
He was not one usually taken to flights of fancy. But watching her sleeping caused a deep yearning in him for him to be the one lying beside her.  
  
The attraction had always been there, but she'd never seemed interested. He felt a glimmer of hope when they were stranded on Carthis, but she killed that hope as only she could.  
  
Now, after this strange turn of events, he was beginning to feel things that he wasn't sure he wanted to feel ever again.  
  
~*~  
  
Melanie stretched and opened her eyes. She shielded her face from the glaring sun while wondering what it was that had woken her up. Then she heard it again: someone was knocking on her bedroom door.  
  
"What?" she asked around a yawn, rubbing her face with her hand. Jarod walked in carrying a tray. She couldn't see what was on the tray, but it was steaming. Then she took in Jarod's appearance. His hair was spiky and still wet from his shower. A smile played upon his freshly shaven face. He was wearing black slacks and a crisp white dress shirt. His tie hung loosely around his neck. She raised an eyebrow. "What's this for?" she asked.  
  
"Oh," Jarod said as he neared the side of her bed, "You made me dinner. I thought I should return the favor." He lowered the tray. On it were two plates. They both carried cheesy scrambled eggs, three pieces of bacon, and one piece of toast with melted butter and cinnamon on it. "I didn't know what you liked, so I made my favorite. Hope you don't mind." He smiled sheepishly.  
  
"Jarod!" she exclaimed in a whisper. Then she playfully slapped his arm. "You shouldn't have!" Despite her protests, she picked up the plate, forked off a piece of egg and popped it into her mouth. Her eyes closed as she savored the taste. "Excellent, Master Chef," she teased. Then her eyes went wide. "What time is it?" she asked.  
  
"Relax," Jarod said, "You have plenty of time to eat before getting ready. Now eat, or I'll be insulted." Melanie smiled before attacking her plate. Jarod sat down on the foot of her bed with his own plate. When they'd finished eating, she looked up and noticed that his tie wasn't tied yet.  
  
"Jarod," she said, catching his attention, "come here." She sat up straight, then got up on her knees. Jarod got up from his position and walked over in front of her, questions in his eyes. Wordlessly, Mel reached between them and took the ends of his tie in her hands. With nimble fingers, she deftly tied it. Then she looked at her work and tilted her head. She grabbed ahold of the knot with one hand and the flap with the other and began to straighten it.  
  
When she had finished, she looked up to Jarod's eyes, only to find that he had been watching her face the entire time. She raised an eyebrow and asked, "What?"  
  
"Where'd you learn to do that?"  
  
"Well, Daddy may not have always been there for me, but how else do you think his ties got tied the right way?" she asked, a small smile on her face. Then her eyes dropped to the ground. "That's probably one of the reasons I despised Brigitte so," she whispered. "When she married him, it became her job to do that."  
  
Jarod placed a finger underneath her chin and lifted her head so she was looking in his eyes. "Thanks," he said. "Now go get ready. We're going to be late."  
  
~*~  
  
Melanie rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I don't know where else to look, Jarod," she said, shaking her head. "I'm having problems with this case, and I don't know why."  
  
"Well, let's go over the facts again," Jarod stated calmly despite the frustration he was experiencing as well. "Jerry Walters and the killer were friends, as we've already deduced."  
  
"They were hanging around in Jerry's hotel room," Mel added, biting her lip in concentration. Then she met Jarod's eyes. "We need to go back there. Witnesses had to have seen them there *together*."  
  
"You're right. Let's go."  
  
They left the building and got in Melanie's car. In no time, they were back at the hotel, interviewing Walters' neighbors. However, that proved to be yet another dead end.  
  
In a moment of desperation, they questioned the concierge again. No new information, except that he did, in fact, remember that a "tall, big guy" had accompanied Walters on the days prior to his murder. Jarod placed a quick call to Howard, and then swiftly ushered Mel to her car.  
  
Once they were seated, Jarod in the driver's seat and Melanie in the passenger's, he looked over at her. "What's wrong, Mel?" he asked soothingly. She looked out her window.  
  
"I don't know," she murmured, tracing a pattern on the glass with her finger. "I'm just really stressed out, is all. A lot is on my mind."  
  
"Like how you got that bruise?" Jarod asked, nodding his head toward her. She looked at him, her gaze questioning.  
  
"What do you mean? I already told you how I got the bruise," she replied defensively.  
  
"C'mon, Mel," he protested. "I know you. Especially when you lie." She exhaled in a frustrated burst before crossing her arms and looking away. Jarod placed a hand on her shoulder. "Mel, you can talk to me."  
  
"The bastard doesn't know when something's finished," she spat out tearfully. Jarod furrowed his brow in concern. He put his other hand on her other shoulder and forced her to face him.  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked slowly, although he could probably guess her meaning. Melanie let her gaze drop to the floorboard before opening up.  
  
"Awhile back, I started dating this guy. Michael. Handsome, smart, could charm your socks off." She chuckled. "Well, he could charm more than your socks off," she commented sadly. "I really thought he was the one. But my work kept us from spending a lot of time together. He got jealous, then demanding. Now, I may have changed my name, but I'm still a Parker at heart. I wasn't going to have any of it." She closed her eyes. "He had other plans."  
  
Jarod reached over and lightly touched the dark spot by her eye. "He did this to you," he murmured. "Parker," he reverted to her old name after a momentary silence, "Why didn't you tell me?" He gently stroked her smooth cheek while patiently waiting for an answer.  
  
"I'm a big girl, Jarod," she replied, refusing to meet his eyes. "I can handle it myself."  
  
Jarod pressed his palm against her cheek and forced her to look at him. "I know you can, Mel, but you don't have to handle it alone." He sighed. "No one should have to handle it alone."  
  
She bit her lip. "Jarod, I'm tired. Just. . .just drive." She pulled herself out of his hold and propped her elbow on the door's armrest.  
  
~*~  
  
Jarod replayed the events of the past four hours in his head while laying in the guest room. The dark space allowed his mind to open up and look at the situation from every angle.  
  
Why would someone as strong as Melanie accept this abuse? Why didn't she fight back? He desperately wanted to sim it so he could understand. But the one thing he swore that he'd never do was to sim her. That would be an invasion of privacy on the basest of levels.  
  
The sound of shattering glass brought him back to earth. He looked over at the clock, and then realized that he'd drifted off to sleep about four hours ago. Then he heard a thump that sounded like a body hitting the floor.  
  
Without any further hesitation, Jarod jumped out of bed and rushed down the hall. He searched every room, and stopped when he reached the kitchen.  
  
"Heya, pretty boy," Melanie slurred from her position on the floor. She turned to look at him. Jarod gasped when he saw her face. Her left eye was swollen to the point that it was no longer open. The whole right side of her face was one long bluish mark. Dried blood surrounded a gash on her forehead.  
  
"Melanie!" he exclaimed, rushing to her side. He coughed and covered his mouth and nose when the thick wall of alcohol fumes assaulted his senses.  
  
"You wanna drink?" she asked, shoving her shot glass in his face. He shook his head as he took the glass from her hand and set it down away from them. Melanie simply shrugged, then took a long swig from the bottle in her other hand. "You sure?" she asked with a giggle in her voice while waving the bottle under his nose. "It's reeeal gooood," she drawled out. Jarod then took the bottle from her hands, eliciting a pout to cross her face.  
  
"Mel," he whispered, moving one hand to touch her right cheek. She flinched, then backed away, fear in her eyes. "What happened to you?" he asked, but he already knew the answer. She shrugged. "Why do you let yourself be his battering post?" he tried. He felt genuine shock when he received a slap to the face.  
  
"What the hell do you know?" she shouted, staggering to her feet. "You don't know the first thing about me!" Jarod stood as well. He started to walk toward her, but she stamped in frustration. "Don't! Okay? Just don't! Don't go into your shrink mode!" With that, she stormed out of the house and onto the back porch.  
  
Jarod sighed, but decided that she needed a few moments to herself. So, he busied himself with cleaning up the mess in the kitchen. Before he could get out to the porch, Melanie stomped back into the house, slamming the door on her way. Suddenly, all was silent. Jarod turned from his position at the sink and saw her standing still. He would have turned back around had he not noticed that her face was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and her skin was very pale.  
  
"What's wrong, Mel?" he asked, dropping his dishtowel and moving to her side. She moved her mouth several times, but nothing came out.  
  
"I stepped on the glass," she whispered. A tear rolled out of her good eye. Jarod instantly picked her up and set her on the countertop. He hastily searched until he found some tweezers and then turned on the overhead light. He tenderly picked up her foot and moved it closer so he could see. He closed his eyes when he saw the extent of the injury. This would hurt.  
  
"Melanie," he addressed her gently, grabbing the towel he had recently dropped, "I want you to put this between your teeth and bite down hard when it hurts, okay?" She nodded and accepted the cloth with wide eyes.  
  
Jarod hesitated, then started to work. He tuned out her whimpers of pain. The glass had to come out, or her foot would get infected. The thought didn't help his heart, though. He was causing her pain. She had probably whimpered exactly the same way when Michael What's-His-Face was beating on her earlier. In moments, although they seemed like hours, the last remaining bits of glass had been removed. Jarod grabbed another towel and used it as a makeshift tourniquet. Then he looked up at his patient.  
  
She had put the towel down, and tears were now flowing down the right side of her face. Jarod gently placed his hand on her knee. He asked softly, "Do you want to talk now?" Melanie's response was to hop off the counter and then hobble back outside. This time, however, she went calmly. Jarod followed, and sat beside her on the back steps. The two sat in silence while Melanie looked up at the stars.  
  
"Love is a funny thing," she remarked cryptically. Jarod looked at her and waited for her to continue. "All of my life, I've never been given really all that much love. I mean, after Mamma died. Sure, Tommy loved me, but he was taken from me so abruptly that it didn't seem to count." She looked to her feet. "When I met Mike, the sparks flew. By that time, I was so love- starved that even if our relationship had only been for sex, I would have been satisfied. With him, I wasn't invisible. I didn't blend into the woodwork. When he started getting jealous of my career, the sensible part of me knew that there would be problems. So, I broke up with him. Well, he didn't let that get him down. He started stalking me. Then, one night, he snuck into my room. He woke me up and tried to talk with me. We ended up getting in a fight, and he hit me." Melanie stopped it there, sighing tremulously.  
  
"It's okay, Mel," Jarod murmured. "Take your time." She nodded and swallowed a couple of times.  
  
"Jarod, I wanted him to love me. Part of me doesn't really know what love is. But, in my mind, if what Mike does to me is the closest to love I'll get, then I'll take it." She closed her good eye. "Beggars can't be choosers," she whispered bitterly.  
  
Jarod immediately cradled her face between tender hands as he looked her in the eyes. He shook his head while he said, "You are not a beggar. Mel, he's using you. He knows you're vulnerable, and he's using that to his advantage. You deserve so much better. If only you knew. . ." he finished mysteriously.  
  
"If only I knew what?" she asked in a whisper.  
  
Jarod shook his head. "That's not important right now. I can't tell you what you should do. What is important is that we catch up on our sleep. Tomorrow's our only day off." He helped a confused Melanie to her feet, then aided in returning her to her room. He tucked her in and tweaked her on the nose.  
  
"Thanks, Jarod."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For not giving up on me, like the rest."  
  
"What are friends for?" he asked with a small smile. Then his face turned serious as he added, "If you ever need to talk; I'm here, Mel." She nodded. Jarod then exited the room and quietly shut the door, plunging the room into darkness. 


	5. Part Four

This is the Way the World Ends  
  
By Bethe  
  
~*~  
  
Part Four  
  
~*~  
  
Jarod awoke the next day to the sound of music drifting from somewhere in the house. He felt the warm late-spring breeze dance about his face. Curious as to what was going on, he got out of bed, threw on a tee shirt, and followed the music.  
  
He ended up in the kitchen. A country group that Jarod didn't recognize blared from a boombox placed on the counter. Jarod leaned against the doorframe and took in Melanie's appearance. She was wearing a pair of jeans that had seen better days: holes had been ripped in both knees and they were now white in color. She had on an oversized blue tee shirt with the bottom tied up in a knot. The shirt was so big that one side of the collar slipped past her shoulder. She had pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail. Several strands had fallen from the band, framing her face in loose waves.  
  
She was on her knees, scrubbing the wood floor while singing along with the CD. She bobbed her head with the music as her arm moved vigorously. "She held Wanda's hand, and they worked out a plan, and it didn't take 'em long to decide that Earl had to die," she belted out and pounded the floor once. Jarod cleared his throat, and Melanie looked up at him, noticing him for the first time.  
  
"Good morning, Jarod," she said cheerfully as she smiled. She pushed herself back up and sat back on her knees while brushing her loose hair out of her face. Jarod smiled back as he studied her face.  
  
"Your face looks improved from last night." And it did. Her left eye was open and not so swollen, and the her right cheek was turning a greenish- yellow.  
  
"Gee, Jarod, you sure know how to make a girl's heart go a-flutter," she replied sarcastically, planting her fists on her hips.  
  
"I meant it as a compliment, Mel," Jarod started defensively.  
  
"Jarod, simmer," she said on a laugh while putting a hand in the air to stop him from continuing, "I was just joking."  
  
"So was I," he whispered conspiratorially, his eyes gleaming. Melanie laughed and shook her head. "You seem in a better mood, as well," he remarked.  
  
"After you went to bed last night, I did a lot of thinking. You were right." Jarod raised his eyebrows, and she smiled. "Yes, Jarod, I'm admitting that I was wrong. I'm letting myself be the victim. Then I started thinking about Mike. I guess you could say I profiled him. Or, simmed him, in your terminology. I think he likes the fear and a sort-of respect he gets from being in control during situations like that. . ." Mel's voice trailed off as the smile left her face. She inhaled deeply and shock entered her eyes.  
  
"Mel, what's wrong?" Jarod asked, concerned. She covered her mouth with her hands and took many deep breaths.  
  
"Mike. . .Mike's the killer," she whispered in horror. "He's doing this to get my attention," she continued. "If my job was keeping me away from him, why not become my job? He's a doctor. Did I ever tell you that?" Jarod shook his head. "A psychologist. I'd told him half-truths about me past, but I was honest about my 'need for love'. He knew I'd let myself be victimized. And he also has access to all the drugs he'd need to perform the killings." Melanie blinked multiple times as she took all of this in. She pulled the loose strands of hair back from her face and held them on the top of her head. "It's all my fault," she whispered, her lips trembling.  
  
"No," Jarod stated forcefully. In one quick movement, he was kneeling next to her and taking her hands in his own. "It is definitely not your fault, Mel. You had no idea how he would take your breaking up with him. Don't blame yourself. This is just what he would want." He reached between them and placed his palm on her good cheek. "Instead, concentrate on getting this guy." Melanie looked into his eyes. "We can get him," Jarod whispered. Then he nodded to reinforce his statement. She thought on this for awhile.  
  
"Let's nail the bastard."  
  
~*~  
  
Two days later, their plan was formulated. Just to be sure they had the right guy, Melanie showed a picture of Mike to the hotel concierge. When he affirmed that Mike was indeed the "tall, big guy" that had accompanied Jerry Walters, she went ahead and gave her ex-boyfriend a call.  
  
"Mike," she'd whispered when he'd picked up, "I miss you so much. I want to be with you again." Within a matter of moments, she'd arranged a meeting with Mike at the Chamberlain Hotel, the very same hotel that Walters was killed at.  
  
In the days leading up to her "date", Melanie and Jarod finalized the details and made sure that everything would happen according to plan. Jarod spent many hours brewing up a drug cocktail that matched what was found in Jerry Walters' blood during the autopsy. Melanie spent time rehearsing her lines. She also went shopping and found a very alluring, very Miss Parker- ish ensemble: a crimson silk button-up blouse, a very short black suede skirt, and a very long black suede jacket. She also dug around in her closet and found a pair of her old black stilettos. However, she refused to show Jarod what she'd bought.  
  
The day of the meeting, the two went to the hotel about five hours early. They set up the room just the way they wanted it. They installed the necessary surveillance devices, as well. Then, Melanie went into the bathroom to get ready. After she'd put on the shirt and skirt, she meticulously applied her makeup, also specially bought for this night. Then she styled her hair into a perfect coiffure. She slid her shoes and jacket on, then took a good look at herself in the mirror.  
  
"My God," she whispered, tears standing in her eyes, "I've brought her back." She blinked several times, squared her shoulders, then opened the bathroom door.  
  
Jarod's reaction would have thrown Melanie off. But she wasn't Melanie now. She was Miss Parker.  
  
Jarod sat down on the bed, amazed. The transformation was shocking. There were no traces of bruises, but it seemed as if she didn't care. He swallowed before whispering, "Mel?" The look she shot him made his blood run cold.  
  
"Not today, Wonder Boy," she replied icily. "We've got one hour. I'm going to drive around for a bit, for appearance's sake. You stay here for another thirty minutes, then go into the next room and watch," she ordered with an air of authority. Then she left the room.  
  
~*~  
  
Once in the car, Parker sat at the wheel for a few moments. Melanie struggled and came out for awhile. She blinked rapidly, attempting to keep herself from crying. She was scaring herself, but it was part of the plan. While Melanie was the dominating personality, she thought back to how Jarod had reacted upon the first sight of her in the Miss Parker getup.  
  
The fear in his eyes had frightened her. It was almost as if the past two years had never happened, and Miss Parker was still at the Centre and chasing Jarod. At least, that's what she saw in his eyes. It was written all over his face, too. His body had tensed up, as if preparing to run. It had broken her heart.  
  
Suddenly, Miss Parker took control once more, and she shook her head to clear her thoughts. Then she started the car and pressed on the gas.  
  
~*~  
  
At the sight of Michael in the hotel lobby, Parker smiled. "Mike!" she called out, waving to him with her hand. Tall, strong, and ruggedly handsome, Mike saw her and smiled as well. He ran over to her and swept her up in a tight embrace. He then kissed her passionately, causing her to laugh in delight. She raised her eyebrows seductively, then grasped his jacket lapel and led him to an elevator.  
  
Once the doors had closed, they couldn't keep their hands off of each other. Their affection ceased momentarily when they reached their floor. Parker led the way and they were soon in the room. She shut the door behind her and leaned against it.  
  
"I'm glad that you came to your senses," Mike murmured.  
  
"Well, I realized that you were more important than my job," she replied, walking away from the door and shedding her jacket. "I bought this, just for the occasion," she said, retrieving a bottle of wine from a pail of ice sitting on a side table. "Chilled to perfection."  
  
"Mm," he murmured in reply. Then he searched until he found two glass goblets. Parker poured the liquid in both glasses, then raised hers.  
  
"To us, and new beginnings," she offered. Mike nodded and clinked his glass with hers. He took a long pull, but didn't seem to notice that she never drank from hers.  
  
"This is good," he stated, reaching for the bottle to pour more. Parker perched herself on the edge of the bed and crossed her long legs.  
  
"So," she began, "what have you been up to?"  
  
Mike swirled his glass around, watching the wine go in circles. "Not much really."  
  
"See, that's funny," she said on a light chuckle, "because I've been following you. And everywhere you go, dead bodies seem to turn up," she finished icily. Mike, who was starting to sway slightly, feigned a look of innocence.  
  
"I have no idea what you're talking about."  
  
"Oh, I'm sure you do. You're a good liar, but I'm a good polygraph. It comes with experience," she sneered. Mike stumbled, now feeling the effects of the drugs in his drink. He looked at the glass in his hand, then back at her.  
  
"You spiked the drink!" he exclaimed not out of shock, but rage.  
  
"What goes around, comes around, darling," she purred. "Now 'fess up, and I might be lenient with you. Did you kill Jerry Walters, and seven other people in the past three months?" she asked demandingly.  
  
"I don't have to answer this," he replied.  
  
"But you will," she said while inspecting a fingernail. "In addition to the drugs, I had Jarod add a truth serum to the mix." She looked up at Mike. "So, either you confess out of your own free will, or the serum will kick in and do it for you."  
  
"What if you're lying?" he asked, becoming slightly unsure. Parker stood up and walked over to her purse. She calmly pulled out a 9mm handgun and aimed it at Mike.  
  
"I shoot you. Right between the eyes, like you did with Jerry. Tell me, Mike, was he awake or unconscious when you offed him?"  
  
"You shoot me, you go to prison," he threatened. Parker simply shook her head.  
  
"No. It was self-defense. I have a witness that says you've been beating me on a regular basis."  
  
"And who would that be?" he scoffed.  
  
"That would be me," replied Jarod, who was now standing in the doorway. He casually leaned against the frame. "I'd tell the truth if I were you. She can be deadly when angry."  
  
Mike looked back and forth between them before sitting down. "Okay!" he exclaimed. "I did it. I killed Jerry and all those other people." He looked up at Parker. "I love you, and your job was keeping us apart. So, I got involved. You can't blame me for that, can you?"  
  
Tears now slid down her face as she moved forward and jabbed the gun at his forehead. "Yes, I can," she ground out, breathing heavily. "I can, and I will. Not only have you put me through a fearful hell each night, you've ruined eight lives. Not to mention the lives of their families and loved ones. I should shoot you right now," she gritted from the back of her throat.  
  
Jarod stepped forward, but a dangerous glare from her stopped him in his tracks. "Parker," he murmured, "it's over." To his horror, she extended her arm and pressed the nose of the gun against Mike's forehead. She tightened her arm muscle and pulled the trigger. Both Jarod and Mike flinched at the same time, but only a click resounded in the silent room.  
  
"Bang. You're dead," Parker whispered icily before pushing Mike to the floor. She stood up and walked past Jarod, out into the hallway. She pushed her way through the throng of agents that had flooded the hotel and went to her car. Instead of getting in the driver's seat, she sat in the back.  
  
She drew her knees to her chest and wept openly. It was over. She felt so relieved, and yet so depressed. She was ashamed of herself. But if she had been Melanie Carlyle for the confrontation, she would have been weak. She needed the icy front of Miss Parker to keep her strong. Miss Parker had no attachments to Michael.  
  
But the downfall to bringing her back was that Melanie didn't know if she could just get rid of Parker that easily. It had taken her a year initially to develop a whole other personality, and another year to perfect it. Miss Parker did not disappear willingly.  
  
The opening of the car door startled her. She looked up and saw Jarod's head ducking down to see her. "Hey there," he rumbled. "Mel?" he asked.  
  
"For now," she whispered back. "I don't know when the other one will come back."  
  
Jarod furrowed his brow, then got in the car without asking permission. "You mean Miss Parker?" he asked. When Melanie nodded, Jarod continued. "I know how hard it must have been to assume that persona after so long."  
  
"No," she interrupted. "It was quite easy. And that's what scares me," she finished. Jarod took a long look at her. Her face was deathly pale, even more so under all that dark makeup. She was trembling all over. He acted on instinct and took her into his arms. She struggled, but he held her fiercely, refusing to let her go.  
  
"It'll be okay, Mel," he whispered into her hair. "Miss Parker is a part of you; there's no denying that. It is possible to maintain a healthy balance between both extremes. The Melanie Carlyle I first met was a perfect blend of the two. The times when Mike paid you visits were the times when you became Melanie, the victim. And then, just now, you had to become Miss Parker again to overcome it. But the Melanie I was introduced to not even a week ago was a strong, opinionated, quirky, friendly, and extremely beautiful woman."  
  
Melanie pulled away, and he allowed it this time. She searched his eyes, and he nodded. "You thought I was beautiful?" she asked, lips trembling.  
  
"I always have, Mel. And I still do. Even when you were black and blue, and in a drunken rage, I thought you were beautiful." He tilted his head and stroked her cheek.  
  
"Jarod. . .I. . .I don't know what to say."  
  
"You don't have to say anything," he replied understandingly. "Just know that I'm here for you." His cell phone rang just then. Groaning, he picked it up and pressed a button while putting it up to his ear. "Yes?" he answered. He listened for a little bit. "Look, Agent Howard, this has been emotionally taxing on the both of us. You'll get your report by five tomorrow." Then he hung up the phone and tossed it in the front seat. He turned back to continue his conversation with Melanie, but she had fallen asleep.  
  
Jarod sighed and rested his head on his fist. She looked so beautiful when she was sleeping. The worries of the world were lifted momentarily off her shoulders during slumber. The hard lines that her face had taken on throughout the course of a day disappeared, giving her a youthful appearance.  
  
He gently helped her to lay lengthwise in the seat, then he moved up to the front. He started the car and set off towards Mel's house. With the case days away from being shut, Jarod knew he would have to move on. Despite Melanie's efforts, the Centre still remained, and they were hell-bent on finding him. If he stayed much longer, they would track him down and find Melanie in the process. He couldn't do that to her. He would have to leave.  
  
Tomorrow. He'd leave tomorrow.  
  
~*~  
  
The sound of Melanie's terrified screams abruptly woke Jarod from the murky depths of sleep. He swiftly jumped out of bed and dashed down the hall. He opened her door and found her sitting straight up in bed, her face dripping wet. "Mel," he panted, "what's wrong?" She nervously clutched at the bedsheets and shook violently. Jarod moved to the bed and took one of her tight-fisted hands into his own. He looked down at it in surprise when he felt that it was ice cold.  
  
"He. . .he was here," she whimpered like a lost little girl. "He said that I'd be sorry. . ." she trailed off.  
  
"Who? Michael?"  
  
"Raines," she whispered. "Then I woke up, and the window was open." She looked Jarod in the eyes. "I never sleep with the window open."  
  
Jarod sat for a moment in indecision. Then he got up from the bed, closed the window and locked it, and locked her door. He looked at her and explained, "You're not going to be alone in here tonight."  
  
Melanie looked slightly relieved, but her face fell when she saw him start to lay down on the floor. She shook her head. "No, Jarod, you can't sleep on the floor." Jarod started to protest, but Melanie put a halt to them with her hand. "No. You're a guest in my home."  
  
"Where do you suggest I sleep, then?" he asked, putting his hands on his hips.  
  
"Well. . ." Mel looked around. Her eyes rested on the spot beside her on the bed.  
  
"I don't think so. I can't sleep there,"  
  
"Oh, why not? You scared I might put the move on you?" she joked, cracking a smile.  
  
Jarod rubbed his face. --No, I'm more afraid of what I might do,-- he thought to himself. Then he threw his hands up in defeat. Still unsure of the idea, he cautiously climbed into the bed beside Melanie. She settled down back under the covers and turned on her side.  
  
"Thanks, Jarod."  
  
"Goodnight, Mel."  
  
Jarod had no more than said those words when he heard Melanie's breathing even out and deepen. He smiled to himself as he propped his head up and rested his elbow on the bed. He sighed before letting his head drop to the pillow. It was only a few moments, however, when a gasp from Mel jerked him back from that state between sleep and awake. She sobbed softly.  
  
"Mel, what's wrong now?" he asked.  
  
"They'll never leave me alone," she choked out. "Jarod, just hold me, please?" she begged desperately. She clutched at his chest.  
  
"Mel," he whispered while tentatively wrapping his arms around her, "it will be alright. They can't get you if you won't let them. Try to sleep."  
  
Long after she'd fallen asleep, he stayed awake. Now that Melanie was in his arms, it was so much harder to contemplate leaving her. He had quickly become her port in the storm, and the idea of leaving her at this crisis in her life caused his heart to break.  
  
Then the thought occurred to him that Raines may have already found them. If that was the case, he couldn't leave--not without Melanie.  
  
~*~  
  
"Good work, agents," Howard addressed them both the next morning. "Now that the killer is behind bars, I think we all can rest a little easier tonight." Jarod and Melanie shared a look. "You two work well together. It's kinda freaky, like you almost share the same mind," he commented while on his way to the door. He paused with his hand on the knob and turned back to both of them. "Morris, I'll have your release form filled out and sent in an immediately. Same for you, Carlyle. Then, you're free to go." He nodded slightly, and walked out the door.  
  
"So," Melanie said after a few moments of silence, "where are you headed to next?"  
  
Jarod opened his mouth to reply when Howard burst back into the room. He slammed the door behind him and tried to catch his breath. "People are looking for you, Morris. I think they want Carlyle too, only they're not calling her that name. They're looking for a Miss Parker." Jarod and Mel looked at each other.  
  
"No," she stated forcefully, shaking her head. "I'm not running, Jarod. I've built my life, my home here. They can't take me."  
  
"They have a warrant out on you, Carlyle," Howard said softly. "One of 'em's draggin an oxygen tank behind him. The other is all smiles, but they never reach his eyes; looks kinda like a cold fish."  
  
"Parker," Jarod whispered, unconsciously using her old name, "come with me. You won't be safe here, no matter high profile you think you are. C'mon," he reasoned. He grabbed her hands and started pulling her toward the back exit. "Mel, we have to go now!" he exclaimed.  
  
"I'll cover for ya. To the best of my knowledge, you both left early to catch up on some much needed rest. Now get outta here!" Howard urged.  
  
Melanie didn't have a chance to respond. Jarod, still holding her hands, dashed for the door. She followed wordlessly. Within moments, they were in her car. Jarod got in the driver's seat while Mel shrank up against the door. Like an expert, he turned the key, shoved the car in drive, and slammed on the gas, peeling out of the parking lot. Gunshots rang out behind them, but never hit the vehicle.  
  
Once they were on the highway, Jarod turned and looked at her. "I guess now it's we run, they chase, eh?" He grinned good-naturedly. Melanie only kept her gaze out the window. She said nothing as the tears continued to roll down her face.  
  
She was now on the run for her life.  
  
And nothing had ever scared her more. 


	6. Part Five

This is the Way the World Ends

By Bethe

~*~

Part Five

~*~

Melanie put a hand to her forehead and stretched her neck. She tried to sit up, but every muscle in her body screamed at her upon doing so. She groaned, then craned her neck to look out the car window.

"Where are we?" she asked in a voice that was thick from sleep. She watched the passing landscape while waiting for Jarod to answer.

"We're on I-44 at the moment," he said finally, after turning down the radio. "I need to make a pit-stop somewhere for gas, and my stomach tells me it's time for dinner," he remarked, a smile in his voice.

Slowly, Mel sat up. Every joint in her body made some kind of noise, it seemed. "I'm getting too old for this," she groaned after she'd gotten herself in an upright position. "Exactly in which one-horse town are we going to be making this pit stop?" she asked, slight disdain dripping from her tone.

"The next exit is for Joplin, Missouri," he continued in his cheerful tone, not letting her attitude get him down. "That sounds good, since I think I'm riding on fumes."

"Missouri?" Mel asked. "Missouri's a long way from D.C., Jarod. Have I been asleep that long?"

"You needed it," he replied. 

"But, Jarod," she interrupted, "that means you've been awake this whole time! I could have taken over for you." Jarod simply shrugged. "No more, Jarod," she ordered, "After we stop, we're finding a hotel and spending the night. You need sleep, too."

Jarod looked over at her. He replied in mock seriousness, "Yes, Mommy." 

"I'll make you think 'Mommy'," she shot back, winking. Jarod laughed as he flipped his blinker on and took the exit towards Joplin.

~*~

Fifteen minutes later, they were still cruising Range Line, the major commercial highway in Joplin. They weren't lost, simply trying to find a place where they wanted to eat. 

"Jarod!" Mel exclaimed in frustration, "Just pick a place already!"

"Simmer, Mel," he murmured, looking back and forth for a restaurant that appealed to them. Finally, he pulled into the Great Wall, a Chinese/Mongolian buffet. They wordlessly got out of the car and stumbled into the restaurant. The hostess sat them at a table, ordered their drinks, and left. For a moment, neither Jarod nor Melanie could move.

"I think my butt fell off somewhere in Illinois," she commented with her eyes closed. Jarod, feeling in a joking mood despite his exhaustion, started to lean over to look. "Don't even try it, Lab Rat," Mel said quietly, her eyes still closed. "I still remember how to fire my 9mm." 

"I believe you," he murmured around a chuckle. "What do you say we get our food? I'm starving." Melanie opened her eyes, smiled softly, then nodded. They both got up and filled a plate with food from the bar. All thoughts of the Centre and the previous week left their minds as they shared a friendly dinner.

~*~

"It isn't exactly the Hilton," Jarod commented while tossing his jacket on the bed. 

"It's fine, Jarod," Mel reassured him. "I've stayed in worse." They both smiled at each other, then Jarod swayed and put an arm up against the wall to brace himself. She rushed to his side and grabbed ahold of his other arm. When he was stable, she ordered, "Bed. Now." 

Jarod nodded and began to lie down on the floor. Instantly, he was jerked up from his position. "I said bed," Parker ordered. "I meant it." 

"I'm fine on the floor, really," he said, nearly slurring the words. Mel clenched her teeth at his stubbornness. Then he closed his eyes and grasped at her arms tightly. True concern filled her.

"No, Jarod, you're about to collapse. You need a bed," she stressed, pulling him up with all her strength. "Now be a good little boy and listen to Mama Parker, okay?" she whispered teasingly. Jarod cracked a weak smile. The two of them managed to get him on the bed. His head had no more than hit the pillow when he fell asleep. 

The effort of trying to move a man Jarod's size onto a bed caused Melanie to stumble slightly. She stood up straight after he was positioned and caught her breath. Then she sat down beside Jarod on the edge of the bed. She took in his appearance. He hadn't shaved in two days, so he was definitely developing the shadow. The stubble gave him a gruff appearance. His hair, however, balanced it out. He must have decided to keep the same haircut after the incident at Carthis, for it looked almost identical. The soft brown waves curled out around his brow, giving him a boyish appearance. 

"He hasn't aged a day," she whispered to herself. She bit her lip as unbidden memories from Carthis flashed in her mind.

__

". . .you're every bit the outcast. . .just like me." The look in his eyes after that statement conveyed many things: heartache, hope, love. It had frightened her.

__

"Why is it that the one person I've been trained to distrust. . .to hate. . .to capture. . .is always with me during the most difficult moments of my life?"

"Maybe. . .it's supposed to be that way,_" _he'd whispered, his face mere inches away from hers. The intensity of his gaze and his tone had caused her to hold her breath.

Then her mind called back their last moments before he boarded the plane. Had that night at Ocee's been a moment of weakness? Or was it a rare moment of clarity? Parker supposed she'd never know. It wasn't like she had given Jarod a reason to hope. Instead, what she'd done was just short of slapping him in the face.

For the first time in two years, Mel allowed herself to feel true regret over her actions; both at Carthis, and the years preceding. But she couldn't do anything about them now. Neither could she hope for a future. As she'd stated quite perfectly: there would be no "us". 

~*~

Parker groaned softly in protest at the idea of waking up. Regardless, she opened her eyes and looked around. It was still dark. In fact, the clock read only three A.M. Then she heard Jarod saying something. She couldn't quite make it out, so she sat up in the chair she'd been sleeping in. She could hear him thrashing around a bit, so she stood up with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and shuffled to his side. 

His face was scrunched into an expression of anguish. Little beads of sweat were appearing on his forehead. He took heaving breaths and clenched the sheets with his hands. "No," he whimpered. "Please? No. Don't!" He yelled out something unintelligible in a strangled voice. Parker took a step back. Then, Jarod cried out in rage. He began to thrash about madly, fists pounding the mattress. 

__

Touch him, Darling, her mother's voice drifted in from nowhere. _Ease his pain,_ Catherine Parker choked out. Not quite understanding, Parker moved forward anyway. She reached out, her hand trembling, until she made contact with Jarod's rough cheek.

__

Fear. Rage. Blood. Crying. Screaming. Hatred. Violation. Pain. Her younger self's screams. The boy, weeping. Major Charles in plane wreckage. Margaret pressing a gun to her temple. Lyle holding a cattle prod. Raines advancing with a syringe. Sydney, turning his back. Catherine Parker, lying in an elevator with eyes still open. Parker, herself, beside her mother; exactly identical, the smoking gun in her hand. Death.

These images struck her with the force of lightening and burned in her mind at only the briefest of touches. Gasping loudly, Parker clapped a hand to her mouth and stumbled backwards until she ran into the wall. She roughly slid into a sitting position while taking shrieking breaths. Then she drew her knees to her chest with her arms and rested her chin on them, rocking back and forth. She didn't blink. She didn't seem to see at all. She shifted into an Indian sit and wrapped her arms around herself, continuing to rock briskly.

Jarod's hand to her shoulder merely slowed her. She didn't stop, and she didn't blink. He sat down in front of her, Indian-style as well, and put his hands on her arms. "What's wrong, Parker?" he asked, trying to look in her eyes. "What dream did you have now?"

Slowly, Melanie quieted and looked into Jarod's eyes. She tilted her head, her eyes still vacant.

"Yours," she whispered. 

"What do you mean?" he asked. He began to gently stroke her upper arms, hoping to offer some kind of comfort. Soon, she came back to reality.

"You were having a nightmare," she began, her gaze focusing. "I woke up and saw you. . .well, I could tell it wasn't a good one. Then I heard a voice, Mom's, telling me to touch you. To ease your pain." Jarod raised an eyebrow, but she continued. "I don't know why I did it. But I touched your cheek, and. . ." her mouth moved multiple times, but she was too choked up to progress. She shut her eyes, clenched her jaw, and took a deep breath. "When I touched your cheek, it was like I was transported into your nightmare. Jarod, I never knew. . ." she trailed off, trying to compose herself. 

Jarod immediately reached between them and softly captured her cheek with his hand. "Don't worry, Mel. Nobody knows. Not even Sydney."

"But you expect him to," she replied. "In your dream, he's turning his back on you."

"You _were_ in my dream," he commented distantly, sighing. Then he looked at the clock, and chuckled. "In another life," he mused, "your phone would be ringing right about now, and I'd be on the other end, waiting to torment you with another one of my never-ending riddles."

Parker smiled softly. "In another life," she repeated, nodding her head. Then she returned her gaze back to his eyes. "You should get back to sleep. You still don't look too good," she murmured, concerned.

"Gee, Miss Parker. You sure know how to make a guy's heart go a-flutter," he remarked sarcastically, knowingly mimicking her from only a few days before. 

"Go to bed," she ordered after a groan. "See you bright and early."

"Parker, wait," Jarod interrupted, stopping her from getting to her feet. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

"I'm not okay, Jarod. I won't be for awhile," she remarked cryptically. Then she went back to the chair she'd been sleeping in and sat down, looking distantly out the window and resuming her rocking.

~*~

Melanie's eyes darted between the map and the road. When she heard her passenger stirring, she asked, "Just exactly where are we going, Jarod?"

"Vegas," he replied hoarsely while sitting up. 

"Vegas? Why Vegas?"

Jarod genuinely smiled before answering.

"To see an old friend."

~*~

"J-Man!" Argyle cried out while hugging Jarod. "Where ya been, man?"

"Busy," he replied, not giving any specifics. "You don't mind if we intrude, do you?" he asked as he stepped back from the embrace.

"Not at all, J-Dog. It's a mi casa es su casa type of thing," he said. "Besides, if it weren't for you, J-Money, I wouldn't me married to my lovely Mona." He smiled blissfully.

"The showgirl?" he asked incredulously.

"One and the same," commented a buxom blonde who'd emerged from the house. "Hi, Jarod. Argyle told me everything. But you'll always be Dick to me," she said with a smile on her face.

"Argyle?" asked Melanie, finally stepping forward.

"Yeah. My parents named me that because of this birthmark that I have. Wanna see it?" he asked while his hands moved for his waistband.

"I'd rather sleep with a leper," she replied calmly, shooting him the glare of death.

"Oh," Argyle drew out. "So you have what we like to call an animalistic fetish sorta thing?" he commented.

"A leper, you boob, is a person with a skin disease. It involves the flesh rotting right off your own body," she said disdainfully. "Yum."

"Enough, you two," Jarod said, putting the bickering to a halt. "Argyle, this is Miss Parker. Parker, this is Argyle, my old friend," he said a bit forcefully, hoping to make a point.

"_The_ Miss Parker?" Argyle asked. At her nod, he shook his head. "If you only knew the stories J-Diddy's told me about you--" He was interrupted by a slap to the head from Jarod. 

"Can we go inside before we make too much of a spectacle of ourselves?" Jarod asked. "Besides, I'm hungry." Melanie rolled her eyes. Argyle, rubbing his head, motioned for the visitors to enter before he did.

~*~

"So, J-pers, whatcha doin all the way over here in Sin City?" Argyle asked later that night, handing Jarod a bottle of beer before sitting across from him. Jarod took off the cap and took a swig before answering.

"I need your help."

"You? Need my help? No way!"

"Yes, Argyle. Parker and I both. We're going to need all the help we can get."

Argyle swallowed a mouthful of brew slowly as a look came over his face. "Why does that suddenly give me the creeps?" he asked hesitatingly.

"In time, Argyle. In time. Let's just have a nice visit together for now."

"Whatever you say, boss," he replied. "By the way, that Parker woman scares me," he muttered with a little shiver. 

"She's frightened men of stronger character. You should be wetting yourself about now," Jarod chuckled. "So," he changed the topic, "You and Mona really hit it off, eh?"

"Oh yeah, J-Man," Argyle sighed, putting his bottle down. "I told you she was my destiny."

"I know, and I'm sorry I didn't believe you. Wonderful children, by the way," Jarod commented. 

"I bet you're wondering how I pulled that one off, right?" After Jarod's nod, Argyle continued. "I treated them exactly opposite of how you'd told me the Centre had treated you. I made sure they knew they were loved, and that they were special. The rest is historical, as we like to say."

"It's history, Argyle. The rest is history," Jarod corrected lightly. There was a soft smile on his face. His eyes, however held a profound sadness that made Argyle genuinely wish for his good buddy to find happiness like he had with Mona. Jarod deserved it.

~*~

Melanie sat out on the back porch, watching the Nevada night sky. In the distance, she could see the strip. In another life, she would have been drawn by those lights, and would have lost a good deal of money. Now, she preferred to sit in a chair and watch them from afar.

The world had definitely changed. Mel's had, at least. However, she couldn't stop dwelling on the past. Carthis, to be exact. It had indeed been an island of the haunted. Too many of her own ghosts had pursued her there. Her whole world had crumbled apart. Her "father's" final lie was the catalyst for the conversion to Melanie Carlyle. Yet, despite Mr. Parker's continuous deceit and treachery, she desperately wanted to believe that he'd jumped from that plane for the right reason: to destroy the scrolls.

The scrolls. They had been weighing heavily on her mind lately. She still had no clue as to why; she'd all but forgotten about them in the two years since the incident. Another question plagued her: Why? Why the amnesia about the one thing that probably cost her mother her life? And why the sudden remembrance of them? Something her father said before he jumped kept sticking out in her mind.

"That's not how they say it ends."

~*~

Waving goodbye to Mona and the kids, Argyle, Melanie, and Jarod pulled away from the house and started on their way. Melanie looked at Argyle in the backseat. Then she reached back and touched his hand.

"It'll be okay," she said comfortingly. Argyle, a surprised look on his face, smiled briefly. Then she turned and faced the front, watching the passing landscape.

After a long silence, Jarod cleared his throat and announced, "Well, only ten more hours to go until we find a place for the night."

"Only?" Mel asked, then scoffed. "Can you believe this guy?" she directed at Argyle, who laughed.

"Tell me about it. The man has no sense of time. Did you know that when I told him about my love for my Mona, he didn't believe me. He said, 'You spent six minutes with her.' Six minutes was an eternity with her."

"You do love her very much, don't you?" she asked softly.

"Oh yeah. The kids, too."

"Charming children," she replied, slightly sarcastic. 

"Look at you two," Jarod interrupted. "Having a civil conversation?" He placed a hand to his chest and shook his head slightly. "I'm getting a little _farklempt_. Go ahead, talk amongst yourselves," he said strangely in a New York accent while moving his hand in a circular motion. "Here, I'll give you a topic: a peanut is neither a pea, nor a nut. Discuss."

Parker looked back at Argyle.

"We have Comedy Central."

"Oh."

Jarod simply grinned and turned on the radio.

~*~

"Jarod, I'm soaked. I'm freezing. I'm about ready to kill you dead!" Parker bellowed while clutching her shirt tighter about her. Jarod shifted his penlight's aim from the dripping map in his hands to her face.

"I said I'm sorry, Parker. What more can I do?" A brilliant flash lit the area mere moments before thunder cracked about them, sending their hands up to cover their ears. 

"Yeah, Miss Parker. He done apologized," Argyle butted in, trying to defend his friend. "This is the part where you forgive him."

"Okay," she replied with an odd smile. "Jarod, I forgive you for getting us lost. And for letting the gas tank go empty. In the driving rain. During a wild thunderstorm."

"Okay!" Jarod shouted. "I get the point." He looked to Argyle. "The nearest town is about three miles from here. Do you want to go ahead and find a hotel? Parker and I will get what luggage we can handle and meet you there." Argyle nodded. He got money from Jarod, then headed on his way. 

Parker shot Jarod a look. "You just couldn't stop and ask for directions at, oh, I don't know. . .a gas station?!" she ranted while attempting to pull her feet from the mud. She eventually managed to get loose. Unfortunately, the force with which she had dislodged herself caused her to fall face first into the mud. Huffing angrily, Mel pushed herself up. After swiping the matted hair from her face, she crossed her arms and simply said, "I'm in hell. That's it. I'm in hell, you're Satan, and Argyle is one of your underlings." Jarod chuckled. "And what the hell are you laughing at?" she asked coldly. She opened her mouth to say more, but a sudden blinding light with a roaring crack following right on top of it silenced her protests.

Moments later, Mel felt the hairs on her neck slowly go down. "Jarod?" she called out, searching the ground with her hands. "Are you okay?"

From somewhere in the vast darkness, he called back, "I've been better. You?"

"I can't see."

"Neither can I. That lightening was too close."

"Jarod, do you smell smoke?" she asked while sniffing the air. Suddenly, she felt movement beside her. Then she felt Jarod's hands yank her away from her position and drag her along the ground. Before she could question, she heard a loud explosion and felt a blazing gust of air blow in her face. The force knocked the breath out of her. After a few horrifying moments, she chokingly sucked in cold air to her lungs. Then, her sight materialized just in time to see her car in flames.

Jarod sighed and sat up. He closed his eyes and said, "Well, now all we have left is what's in my backpack." He looked to Parker. "I'm so sorry, Mel."

  
"Don't apologize," she murmured, shaking her head. "It's nobody's fault that we're stranded here, okay? Let's just get to the hotel. I'm really cold." Jarod nodded and helped her up. She took a step. She stumbled, and would have fallen if Jarod hadn't moved his hands to stabilize her. Searing pain shot up from her ankle and moved up her leg. 

"Parker, what's wrong? Your ankle?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah. I think I sprained it trying to get out of the mud earlier. God, it hurts," she whimpered. "Help me."

"You're demanding?" he asked softly, raising an eyebrow.

Mel hesitated. "No," she replied, just as softly, "I'm asking. Please, help me?"

Jarod grabbed ahold of her hand, then recoiled instantly. "Your skin's like ice!" he exclaimed, not realizing that his skin felt the same to Parker. "C'mon, let's get you someplace warm."

~*~

The town that the trio had been stranded near had no hotels. However, it did possess one bed and breakfast, which was luckily vacant. This bed and breakfast had three rooms, exactly enough for each to have their own bed, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a shared den with fireplace. 

Mel sat in front of the fireplace wearing one of Jarod's sweatshirts and a pair of his boxers. The shirt was at least three sizes too large, so it practically bared her shoulders. She had to roll the waistband of his shorts down multiple times, too. But she wasn't complaining. They were dry and clean. She couldn't ask for more.

Still, she shivered violently. She couldn't seem to get warm enough. Then Jarod walked through the doorway holding a steaming mug.

"It isn't exactly--"

"The monk's brandy?" she asked, chuckling dryly. Jarod gave her a quizzical look. "Sorry," she whispered, her eyes lowering. "I couldn't help it." A heavy silence fell between them.

"You remember," he murmured, moving to sit beside her. He offered the mug to her, and she accepted it with both hands.

"Yeah," she whispered before taking a sip. Another silence filled the room as the irony of the situation fell on them.

"Two years later, and we're still in the same spot," Jarod murmured. 

"I've been having dreams lately," Mel commented, seemingly changing the subject. 

"What about?" Jarod asked while turning his head away from her.

"Carthis." He turned back to look at her. "The scrolls." 

"And what about them?" he asked after a brief pause. Melanie shrugged.

"I can't really say much about them, except for what happens right before I wake up."

"And what's that?"

"Daddy, patting the case that held them, and saying, 'That's not how they say it ends.'" The two looked at each other.

"That could mean anything," Jarod commented.

"I know. But it makes me think that finding the scrolls, or at least what's in them, is the key to taking down the Centre. The more I think about my previous plan of distributing information to federal agencies, I realize how futile that plan really was. The Centre has contacts, allies, at even the executive rank. One little FBI profiler wasn't going to rock the boat that much. It would just result in cover-up. Our only leverage is to get the scrolls. And finish what my mother must have been doing when she was killed."

"I was wrong," Jarod commented cryptically. Parker raised an eyebrow.

"About what?"

"We're not in the same spot," he murmured. They were silent for a long time; the fire cracked and popped noisily behind them. Mel shivered again, and it caught his attention. He found a blanket to his side and grabbed it. Then he draped it around her. They paused while looking in each other's eyes, a wave of déjà vu washing over them. Jarod's eyes held heartache, hope, fear, and love. The stunning realization that this was her chance to make up for past transgressions hit her with a force so astonishing that she almost gasped. At a turning point, she decided to follow her heart this time, instead of her mind. Her gaze lowered to his lips, then back to his eyes. After a few excruciating moments, he did the same, starting to move his head downward. Then the door opened.

"Sorry if I'm intruding--"

"Out!" they both exclaimed simultaneously. Argyle took in their sitting positions and could sense the intensity in the air.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He turned and walked out the door he came in, smiling.

"Now where were we?" Mel asked, looking in his eyes.

"Right about. . ." Jarod paused as he lowered his head until his lips were mere inches from hers. "Here," he whispered, bringing hand to her cheek. He softly stroked her cheek bone with his thumb. for a moment. Then he slid his index finger underneath her chin and drew her to him.

The moment their lips met, distant thunder sounded outside. But they didn't hear it. They paused, then both deepened the kiss at the same time. Mel wrapped her arms around his shoulders while his arms encircled her waist possessively. A soft moan escaped from her throat and a tear slid from her eye. When Jarod felt part of the tear hit his own cheek, he pulled away and looked at her in the face. He wiped it away tenderly and cocked his head slightly. "What is it?" he asked huskily.

"I have to go," she whispered, wide-eyed. Without another word, she got up and limped out of the den. Jarod ran his hands through his hair and sighed before getting up to follow her. 

He cautiously opened her door and walked in, to find nobody there. Then he heard the shower down the hall turn on. He headed that way. When he neared the bathroom, he could hear her sobs as plain as day. He rubbed his face and took some deep breaths. He had a decision to make: should he let her be, or go to her?

The decision already made in his mind, he opened the bathroom door and walked in. The room was already steamed up, showing just how hot the water was. He could see her body, blurred from the shower curtain, and he was struck with the same feeling as that night on Carthis. Oddly enough, it wasn't sexual. It had purer motives than that. He was watching a creature of beauty, and he loved her.

Without hesitation, he shed his own clothes and stepped into the shower behind her.

~*~

Mel, her eyes closed, let the water sting her battered skin. She needed the pain to cleanse her soul. She gasped when she felt Jarod's hands on her shoulders. Without a word, he pulled her until her back was resting against his chest, and he wrapped one arm around her shoulders, the other around her waist. Then he gently kissed her neck and simply held her.

She couldn't stifle her sobs. She bowed her head and wept bitter tears. Jarod rested his forehead against the back of her head and whispered into her hair, "Just let it out, Mel. Let it all go."

The stressful events of that day, plus the days leading up to it, were relived and then released as she cried, clutching to Jarod's arms. After many minutes had passed, she quieted and let her head fall back against his shoulder, her temple resting against his jaw. Then she sighed and turned around, still in his arms. She closed her eyes and touched his face with her hands, memorizing the feel of his skin underneath her fingertips. 

Jarod watched this in wide-eyed wonder. She was so beautiful. He couldn't resist. He placed his hands on her cheeks and drew her in for a kiss that was tentative at first. Then it developed into something deeper, something meaningful. 

Mel moved a hand up through his hair and gently clutched a handful of it in her fist. Then she moved a few millimeters away and whispered against his lips, "Jarod, get a haircut." Then she moved farther back so she could see his face, and smiled.

"I happen to have it on good authority that chicks dig the long hair," he murmured, rubbing her slick upper arms.

"And what chick would you be trying to snag?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jarod pulled her close and lowered his head. His lips barely touching hers, he whispered, "You," before capturing them in another kiss.

When they broke apart for air, Mel smiled widely. Then she raised her mouth to his and replied against his lips, "Good." They kissed once more.

"You do realize that we're naked, don't you?" she asked after it had ended. Jarod looked down between them and shrugged.

"I'm don't want you that way. . .um. . .I mean, I do, but. . .I should just stop, shouldn't I?" he asked, embarrassed. 

"I understand what you mean," Mel chuckled and stroked his cheek. "And I feel the same way. But we should really get out, because I'm going to be wrinkled like a prune. And we know that that sure ain't attractive," she commented before moving to get out of the shower.

Jarod stayed behind for a few moments while his mind tried to grasp what had just happened. Then he heard, "Catch, Wonder Boy," right before a towel flew into the shower. Parker peeked her head past the curtain and winked before ducking back out again.

Jarod couldn't help but smile to himself. Things were starting to look good again, on all fronts. 


	7. Part Six

This is the Way the World Ends

By Bethe

~*~

Part Six

~*~

Jarod walked into Mel's room later to check up on her. He slowly opened the door. She sat up when the rectangle of light invaded the dark.

"Jarod?" she croaked, squinting her eyes.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing. A lot's happened over the past week."

Melanie fell back against the bed and sighed, then coughed. "I feel like crap," she remarked somewhat jokingly. Jarod left the door open and went to sit beside her on the edge of the bed. 

"How do you mean?" he asked. She coughed again. That's when Jarod took a good look at her. Her half opened eyes seemed to squint slightly. Her face was flushed and her breaths were heavy and ragged. He brought the back of his hand against her forehead, face, and neck.

"Mel," he whispered, "you're burning up."

"Yeah," she giggled. "It's horrible, because I'm freezing cold everywhere else." She giggled again, and Jarod started to worry.

"You need your rest. Go back to sleep," he murmured, stroking her wild hair from her face. "When you wake up, I'll have some medicine for you." He smiled warmly.

"Yes, Daddy," she whispered coyly. She sat up, giggled once more, and then placed her lips to his cheek. He had to keep himself from cringing when he felt how hot they were. Mel laid back down. She pulled her pillow sideways and hugged it before drifting off.

Jarod sat there for awhile, simply watching her. All this, and now she was sick? He felt awful. It was his fault. He had to go and be the macho man, and then get them stranded outside in the freezing rain. Where was the tender caregiver then?

He touched her face once more before getting up and leaving the room. He had work to do.

~*~

"What's wrong J-Homes?" Argyle asked once the two were alone.

"Mel's sick," he murmured looking off into the distance. "She's only going to get worse, and that puts a crimp in our original plans. I don't want her going any further until she gets over it. So, I'm going to ask a huge favor of you."

"What could be bigger than the one you've already asked me, J-Man?"

Jarod chuckled, then ran a hand through his hair. "Nothing, Argyle. But this is a big favor to ask, nevertheless. I want you to go ahead with the plans yourself. "

"You mean, you want me to go to North Carolina? Myself? Alone?" Argyle gulped loudly. 

"You can do it. I wouldn't have asked you if you couldn't," Jarod replied, smiling. 

"Okay, J-Money," Argyle stated, unsure of himself. "If you say so, boss."

"Good. Parker and I will join up with you when she's feeling better. But, I fear that might be awhile. Get the house set up. Get groceries; clothes, preferably, and anything else you think we might need. Hold down the fort. That's all for now. I'll be in touch often."

Argyle sighed and said, "I thought you were gonna ask me to do something harder. This, I can do. Argyle is on the case."

"Oh no," Jarod interrupted. "Don't start that again. Those five words still cause me to have a nauseating feeling in the pit of my stomach," he commented dryly. "And stop referring to yourself in the third person. It's giving me a headache."

"Sure thing, J-Z."

"J-Z? Where did that one come from?"

"Don't ask, J-Man. Don't ask."

~*~

With Argyle gone, the bed and breakfast was a much quieter place. Melanie didn't venture out of her room, but stayed in bed. At first, she didn't get worse. But she didn't get better either. She experienced an equal mixture of times of delirium and lucidity, and she had a mild fever. She also complained of headaches, congestion, and difficulty breathing, but nothing too serious. Jarod was beginning to hope that it would be the worst she'd get.

Then one day, she took a turn. Jarod walked into her room, as he did daily, with a tray of food, a newspaper, and a good mystery novel. While she ate her meal, usually soup, Jarod would read first major stories from the newspaper. Then he would read a chapter of the novel to her. They would never progress further than a chapter, because both of them had so much fun trying to figure out who had committed the crimes and such. But this day, the air about the room was different.

Jarod set the tray down on the nightstand and sat in the chair beside the bed. When he heard a low moan come from the still body on the bed, dread sank into the pit of his stomach. He bent over to look at her. Her cheeks were flushed, but the rest of her face was stark white. She began to cough violently, but kept her eyes closed.

"Mel? You alright?" he asked, putting a hand to her forehead, then quickly drawing away from the intense heat she was emanating. 

"Daddy?" she croaked, beginning to grasp at the air frantically. "Daddy, where are you? Daddy, don't leave me!"

"Shh. It's okay. It's me. Jarod. Remember?" he asked in a soothing voice. He tenderly smoothed away the hair from her face.

"Jarod?" she asked, her voice taking on an odd tone. "Jarod, where's Faith? I checked the room, but she's not there," she commented, slightly breathless.

"Faith?" he rumbled. He was confused. Faith had been dead for at least three decades. "Why do you want to see Faith?"

"Because, silly, she's alone down there, and I want to keep her company," she replied, opening her eyes. They were bright with fever and had a wild glow to them. "How did you get in my room? You're supposed to be at the Centre."

Jarod blinked at the sudden topic change. He didn't know what to say. She was obviously delirious. What could he tell her that would make sense in her strange little world? Then, he opted for the truth. "We're not at the Centre, Melanie. Faith is dead, remember?"

Parker's eyes became sad. "Yes, I remember now. She was sick." Parker coughed violently then, and sat up in bed. Jarod sat down on the edge beside her and rubbed his hand in circles on her back. 

"Mel, I'll be right back," he murmured. "I have some medicine that I want you to try. Stay here," he ordered gently. Then he left the room.

When he returned, medicine bottle in hand, he found a very frantic Melanie. She was kicking against the covers, and clutching at them at the same time. She cried out in a loud voice, "Mamma!" Even though it was fairly dark, Jarod could see tears coming down practically in sheets.

He quickly made his way to the bed and tried touching her hand. Mel only shrieked, then abruptly pulled her hand away. She sat straight up, screaming, "Mamma, no! Mamma!" 

She started clawing at the air. Then she started to move into a position for crawling. Making a snap decision, Jarod jumped onto the bed behind her and wrapped his arms firmly around her waist while pulling her back toward him. "No!!" she cried out in a broken voice, sobbing harshly. "Mamma!" 

Jarod kept his left arm secure around her waist, and slid his other one up and placed his hand against her left cheek. He began to rock back and forth with her. He began to sing quietly, "Cree craw toad's foot, geese walk barefoot." He repeated that over and over, hoping for it to have a soothing effect. 

Slowly, Parker began to calm down. Her arms dropped to her sides. She relaxed against Jarod's back and let him take her back and forth. Every once in awhile, she'd take shuddering breaths or make a whimpering noise in the back of her throat. But she didn't make any more outbursts. Then, she was completely silent, and her breathing was heavy and even. Jarod reached up to brush her hair from her forehead. When he felt that it was damp, he breathed a sigh of relief. The fever had broken. It would only be a matter of days before she was better. 

Then he looked at the woman sleeping in his arms. He couldn't help but think that two years ago he'd be shot for even hinting at attempting this. He chuckled to himself. The world had definitely changed.

Jarod didn't move from his spot on the bed, for fear of waking her. In fact, he stayed there all night with her, holding her. For the first time in a week, she slept the whole night through without waking.

~*~

"Hey, Lab Rat, wake up."

Jarod slowly opened his eyes to find a pair of blue ones looking into them. He blinked, then reached out his hand to touch the smooth cheek before him. He smiled slightly when he felt that it was considerably cooler than the night before.

"I was beginning to wonder if I'd lost you, there," she murmured, raising an eyebrow. 

"I could say the same about you," Jarod mused, his expression turning serious. "You really gave me a fright last night, Parker."

"All I can remember is a red haze. And you singing." She gave a teasing smile. So, it seems like I'm about to die, and all you can think of is 'Cree craw toad's foot'?" she asked dryly. 

"Hey, don't knock the Cree Craw," Jarod remarked. "It's what my mother used to sing to me. . ." Jarod's gaze dropped. "At least, I think she sang it to me."

"Hey," Melanie whispered, lifting his chin with her finger. "We'll find her. That email from Ethan said she was last seen in Kitty Hawk. The Outer Banks isn't that big of a place. If she's gone by the time we get there, I'm sure we'll find out where she went." She raised her eyebrows and nodded to emphasize the point.

"You should be in bed," Jarod rumbled after a long pause. "You were very ill."

"To be honest, I just woke up myself." She coughed for a few moments, then rubbed her throat. She caught the concerned look Jarod was giving her and groaned. "I'm a big girl, Jarod," she complained.

"Mel, you didn't see yourself. You were delusional. You could have hurt yourself. Besides, you're still a little warm," he chided like a parent would to his child.

Melanie rolled her eyes, but got back on the bed. To her surprise, Jarod put his arms around her front and pulled her to him. He held her tight and nuzzled his face in her hair. 

"Hey," she whispered, placing her hands on his biceps. "What's wrong?" She tilted her head. She could hear Jarod inhale deeply, then let it out.

"I really thought I was going to lose you," he whispered tremulously. He took another deep breath, and Parker figured out what it was that he was doing. He was smelling her hair. It was too much for her.

Sniffing, she shifted her position until she was facing Jarod. Then she reached out and gently touched his face. She moved her head closer until their foreheads were resting on each other. She pressed her palm firmly to his cheek and let their two breaths become one. Then she nuzzled his nose with hers and whispered, "You'll never lose me."

"How can you be so sure?" he asked, sounding like the lost little boy he'd sounded like after their return from Carthis.

"Because," she murmured. She tapped his head with one finger and continued, "I'll always be up here." Then she pressed her other hand to his chest, just over his heart. "And, I hope, I'll always be here."

Jarod chuckled then, covering her hand with his and holding them there firmly. "Don't doubt, Mel. Never doubt." 

They sat like that for a long time; forehead to forehead, Mel's hand on Jarod's chest. After awhile, Jarod would hear a slight buzzing sound every now and then. He finally decided to look down and saw that Parker was asleep. And she was snoring lightly. He pursed his lips to keep from laughing out loud. It all was really very cute, yet funny at the same time.

Slowly and gently, he shifted his position until he was laying down on the bed. Mel didn't awake, but simply curled up beside him, hugging his stomach and resting her head on his chest. He noticed that her breathing was already improving. He made a mental note to go out and find a rental car. They would be leaving soon.

~*~

Two days later, Melanie was watching the countryside go by from the interior of a spacious Dodge Intrepid. Then she turned and looked at Jarod, who was driving. She twirled an auburn strand of hair around her pointer finger and asked, "Are we there yet?" Jarod looked over to her, and she smiled cherubically. 

"Almost there," he replied deeply. "Getting impatient?" he asked. She simply smiled again and reached between them, resting her hand on his knee. She resumed watching the landscape fly by.

She wasn't quite sure what brought about the change in her attitude. She wasn't quite so afraid to be on the run now. In fact, it almost thrilled her. It probably didn't hurt that she was fleeing with the person whom she'd been chasing for years. It was almost ironic, to think about it. After all her efforts to catch him, when she finally did, she had become the one being chased. 

Then there was her and Jarod's budding relationship. She smiled to herself at the thought of it. Then the Miss Parker in her mentally snorted in disgust. All her life she'd been taught that to show any kind of need, especially for love and affection, was weak. Parkers didn't need love.

__

"Yes, they do, Darling," whispered her mother's voice from the back of her mind. "_Everyone needs love."_ Melanie sat silently, remembering snatches of conversations she'd had with her mother before her alleged death. "_Love is a beautiful thing, Precious. There are all kinds of love: love between family, love for a close friend. And then, there's the most wonderful kind of all: true love."_

"But, Mamma, how will I know when I find my true love?" little Melanie had asked while combing a doll's hair. Her mother had sighed and paused her own combing of Melanie's hair. Then she'd turned her daughter so she could look her in the face.

"_You just will, Baby. And it won't be all mushy-gushy, like the books or movies say," _she'd chuckled, wrinkling her nose. "_No, he'll torment you beyond belief. He'll do anything to get a rise out of you. And you'll do the same. But even though you can't stand each other, you'll be inexplicably drawn to each other."_

"Like magnets?"

"Yes, Darling. Just like magnets. You won't be able to avoid it. And the reason for that is because although you get under each other's skin. . .you make each other feel valuable. Special. And, before you know it, the tormenting will turn into loving jibes. And for some reason, those taunts will only make you feel more loved."

At that point, Melanie had wrinkled her nose and looked questioningly up at her mother. "_Was it like that with you and Daddy?"_

"Exactly like that, Darling." Catherine's look had become distant then. "_Just like that."_

Melanie snapped back to attention when she realized that Jarod had been speaking to her. "I'm sorry. Zoning out. What were you saying?"

"I was saying," he chuckled while stretching his arm in front of her and pointing out her window, "there it is."

~*~

The house was set up on wooden poles on the sandy dunes of the beach. It was an exquisite example of architecture. A pale blue stucco, the house screamed "ocean-front". It was tall _and_ wide, rare for a beach house. 

Melanie stepped out of the car and placed her hands on her hips. "Wow," she murmured under her breath. Without waiting for Jarod to join her, she walked up the wooden steps and in the house through the sliding glass door. She stepped into what appeared to be a living room/kitchen combination. It was spacious and airy. That the walls were all white only added to the roomy feeling. On the right side was the living room, complete with coffee table, overstuffed tan leather couch and loveseat, and TV. A huge bay window provided a perfect view of the beach. The sun was in the process of setting, which only made the effect that more stunning.

The kitchen was on the other side. It must not have been the main one, for it was fairly small. It only held a microwave, double sink, a few cabinets, and a mini-fridge. 

"Hey, Miss P! Glad to see you're in flip-flop shape."

"It's 'tip-top', Argyle," Melanie corrected while turning around to see him. "Tip-top shape." She grinned widely. "And thanks. I'm feeling much better."

"Nice selection, Argyle," Jarod rumbled from the doorway, dropping his duffel bag, the only luggage they could bring. 

"I thought so myself, J-Man," he replied while quickly hugging Jarod. "And guess what? This is really nifty."

"Oh, no," Jarod murmured. "I can only imagine. What, Argyle?"

"It's called the 'Mona Lisa'," he said on a laugh. "Ain't that the kick in the head?"

"Yeah," Parker replied slowly, raising her eyebrows. "Big kick." She winked.

"Well, J, I did what you asked. I didn't know Miss P's size, so I had the sales lady pick somethin out. Rooms are upstairs. J-Pops, yours is the first on the right. Miss P, yours is right across from his. I'll let you guys get settled in." With that, Argyle left the house and headed for the beach.

The two left in the house looked at each other for a few moments. Then Melanie smiled and said softly, "I'd better go see what disaster he got for my wardrobe." She walked out, leaving Jarod standing alone in the living room.

~*~

Melanie stood in the main living room, eating straight out of a cottage cheese container, and looking out the window. She was so engrossed, that she didn't hear Jarod approaching behind her.

"You actually eat that stuff?" he asked, only slightly enjoying her startled jump. She turned and briefly looked at him, then resumed her eating and staring.

"Just like you and Pez," she murmured before taking in another spoonful of the white curds. 

"What are you doing?" he asked softly and kindly.

"Enjoying the pre-dawn quiet," she whispered. "Thinking."

"And I ruined that, didn't I?" he asked, feeling like he could kick himself.

"No," she said with a shake of her head, still looking out the window. "The sun just now finished rising, and my mind is starting to wander. I needed the interruption."

Jarod nodded, then moved up behind her. He placed his hands on her upper arms, and they both stood in silence. Suddenly, a spoon filled with cottage cheese was shoved in front of his mouth. He grunted as he moved his head backward. "Are you trying to kill me?" he asked wryly.

"Just try it. You'll like it," she coaxed.

"Uh uh," he replied. "Do you know how that's made? It can't be healthy."

"And Pez is?" she asked. "Jarod, if someone were to ask you what the food groups are, you'd say ice cream, Insta-Cheeze, Twinkies, and Pez. A Big-Mac is healthier than your diet," she stated crisply, jabbing the spoon back at his mouth. "Now eat it, or feel my wrath."

Jarod cringed as she forced the stuff into his mouth. Then, a moan of surprised delight came from his throat. He swallowed and nodded his head.

"Good?" Mel asked.

"Mmhmm," he murmured, nuzzling the back of her head with his nose. "But I prefer this," he continued, pulling her hair back and then placing a light kiss on her elegant neck. Mel leaned until her back was flush against his chest. Then the two watched the surf in silence.

~*~

"Jarod, I'm better!" Melanie protested hours later. "I'm feeling just super. Why can't I go with you two?"

"Because," Jarod replied gently, taking her shoulders in his hands, "You're not completely recovered. Look, you're still wheezing. I want you to go out and enjoy the sun and the ocean while you can. When you're better, I expect you to be with us."

Melanie smiled slightly, then nodded in acknowledgment. "Okay. I guess I'll just have to suffer on the beach without you." Then she skipped upstairs. Jarod and Argyle looked at each other, then shrugged. 

"I don't know, J-Man," Argyle commented, "She seems a lot better."

Jarod smiled. "But I want her to have a few good days with no worries. It's going to be a long, rough ride ahead."

~*~

For the second consecutive day, Melanie had been left at the house alone. She hadn't felt like going out the day before. Jarod was right, of course. Before she could get her suit on, she started coughing awfully. She resigned herself to the couch and watched TV all day; not exactly productive.

But today, she was ready to face the sun. Wearing a one-piece, something the old Parker would have cringed at, and a sari, rubber flip flops, and carrying a beach towel, a cooler filled with drinks, and the book she and Jarod had been reading, she began her trek. Her feet squeaked against the packed sand as she made her way. It was a fairly short journey. She found the spot she wanted in a minute and started setting her things down.

Finally, after much juggling, she was laying down on a towel with a drink in one hand and the book in the other. However, she didn't progress very far in her book. Her mind wandered, as it had a tendency to do lately. She started to think of Jarod. She may have been ill recently, but he was starting to worry her.

She'd heard him having nightmares over the past week. She wished that she could go and ease his pain, but her strength wasn't up to par. If she attempted to soothe his fears, like she did that one night in Missouri, she feared she might not come out of that horrible world.

Then she thought back to the memory of her conversation with her mother. Why had she remembered that when she did? Was it supposed to mean something? Her heart jumped as her mind took her to a place where she wasn't sure she wanted to be. Being in love was too costly. She'd allowed herself to fall once, and ended up smacking against the concrete. She couldn't afford to lose once more.

And what about Jarod? She didn't know what he'd do if he lost her. Earlier, she had told him that he would never lose her. Well, she could only hope that she was telling the truth. 

Then, something caught her attention. Mel squinted as she tried to find it again. She saw what she was looking for: sun glaring off of red hair. The realization sank into her stomach like ice as she stood up and walked toward the water. She needed a closer look, just to be sure.

To her frustration, the woman turned and began to move farther down the shoreline. In a quick decision, Parker followed and swiftly came up behind her. She bit her lip before tearfully asking, "Were you really friends with my mother?"

Margaret froze, then slowly turned. Pain and heartache entered her eyes as she took in the woman before her. She put a hand to her mouth and whispered, "Melanie."

"You know my name?" Mel asked, tilting her head and frowning. Then, Margaret looked around, seeming nervous.

"Not here. Not now. Where are you located at?"

"Right there," Mel replied, pointing at their house.

"Let's go there. Less people."

~*~

Melanie sat down across from Jarod's mother, holding a cup of coffee. Margaret held an identical cup, and was taking a sip from it when Mel spoke up. "I wanna know everything," she whispered. "Were you friends with my mother? How did you know my name? Where is my mother now?"

Margaret nodded and set her cup down. "Of course, I'd know your name," she said softly. "I held you in my arms the day you were born." Melanie gasped before the older woman continued. "In fact, I had just given birth that day, too. I was in the same room as your mother. But that's not how we met. I was a secretary for Mr. Parker, your father. Occasionally, I would see Catherine come into the office for something or other. Usually it would be to dispute some action your father was taking against a child. When we found out we were pregnant at the same time, it was like we shared a common bond. We got to know each other better. A friendship grew. My husband was off doing the military thing, hers was absorbed in his work. Loneliness proved to be the catalyst to our alliance." Margaret paused to take another sip of her coffee. Her eyes became tender. "You were such a beautiful baby. Catherine would say that my son, Jarod, was a beautiful baby as well. The fact that the two of you were born in the same room, on the same day, almost at the same minute was mind-blowing. Then we found you had been placed beside each other in the nursery. Catherine and I joked that day that the two of you were destined for each other." The two women shared a look.

"Did you remain friends with my mother after that?" Mel asked, her eyes amazingly dry.

"There's something that Jarod doesn't know. He was abducted by the Centre twice." At Mel's shocked look, she continued. "On the day you were born, Mr. Parker was running late, as usual. I never really wondered why, but it upset Catherine immensely. He showed up later, with an exquisite bouquet and all smiles. The next morning, I went down to the nursery to feed my son. He was gone."

"They. . .they took an infant?" she asked breathlessly. Margaret nodded.

"By then, they knew he would be something special. I didn't know how they could know it, but they did. Then I found out that later that night, Catherine had gone into labor again. Of course, she had twins, but the second one died. Or, so she thought. But I digress. Catherine, ever the loyal friend, did the one thing that could help me out of my depression: she shared her daughter with me."

"Auntie Maggie?" she asked. Margaret smiled.

"I was there for your first birthday party. You clung to me more than your mother, if memory serves. Not long after that birthday, Jarod was 'found' and returned to the Major and I. Being the naïve girl that I was, I didn't move our family away from Blue Cove and the Centre. Charles and I even visited your house a time or two. You and Jarod celebrated your birthdays together during those times. Oh! How you two used to torment each other!" Margaret exclaimed, slipping into nostalgia. "He would pull your hair. Then you'd chase him down and beat on him mercilessly until he apologized. You would chase him for hours, as long as he kept running." Jarod's mother smiled sadly. "You still do."

"Not anymore," Melanie commented, "but that's digressing again. You haven't answered all of my questions."

"You're right. When Jarod was abducted the second time, I had figured out that it was the Centre doing it. But I had no proof. So, I quit and left as quickly as possible. I said my brief good-byes to you and Catherine before leaving. I remember that you cried so hard. Your mother kept in touch, trying to update me on Jarod and how he was doing. I remember once that she commented that you and he had been introduced formally during a Centre experiment. She said that you didn't remember each other. I was thrilled, however, that he had an old friend to fall back on when times got tough." Margaret looked down at her cup of coffee, now cold. "When Catherine's letters stopped, I knew. Or, I thought I knew. One day, I got a hastily written letter wanting me to meet someone at the location where the picture was taken. I went and saw it was Catherine. I was so excited, but then I saw that she was pregnant. And she didn't look happy."

"What was wrong?"

"Oh, many things, really. The child within her was an experiment. She knew she would die after giving birth. But another thing plagued her. She had found something, deep in the dark heart of the Centre, and its contents held unimaginable power."

"The scrolls," Melanie whispered, her eyes wide. Margaret nodded.

"She had found them, and read them. I believe that somewhere, there's a journal entry about their contents. That day, she gave me the scrolls and begged me to return them to Carthis. I agreed."

"The picture," Mel commented. "How did the picture get taken?"

"I didn't know if it would be the last time I would see Catherine, so I wanted something to remember our friendship, and my vow, by. I happened to have a camera, so I stopped a passing pedestrian and he took our picture. Decades later, I found that picture, along with the scrolls and a letter, in a chest. I was reminded of my promise to Catherine. But then I remembered that I didn't know anything about Carthis. So, I went back to the place, searched around, and found the doll, and the clues."

"Enter Jarod and myself. . ." Parker murmured. She bit her lip again, thinking about the implications of Margaret's story. She and Jarod had known each other their entire lives. In fact, almost exactly their entire lives. What did that mean? Was it merely a coincidence that they were born at the exact same time, in the same room, side by side? She would have let her thoughts run farther, but Margaret's hand on top of hers stopped them.

"Those scrolls must be found," the elder woman whispered, "I don't know what they say, but I believe it is powerful enough to take down the Centre. I believe it's the main reason your mother was killed."

A tear slid down Parker's cheek as she placed her other hand on top of Margaret's. "Was she. . ." she managed, unable to finish.

"She was a wonderful woman," Jarod's mother replied soothingly. "She could make anyone who came in contact with her smile. A good soul, just like you."

"If there's anything that I'm not, it's a good soul," Mel grated out.

"Shush, my child," Margaret whispered. "Listen to your Auntie Maggie for just a moment. You _do_ have a good soul. I knew it when I held you your first day on Earth. It's just been hidden because your mother wasn't there to help nurture it. You have to find it. If you look hard enough, it will be there." She cradled Melanie's head between her hands and placed a motherly kiss on her forehead. 

"Thank you," Mel whispered after a few quiet moments.

"You're welcome, but I must get going."

"No!" Mel exclaimed, stopping her with a hand to her arm. "You have to stay!" At Margaret's confused look, Mel continued with, "You can't leave. Not now. He should be back anytime n--"

She was interrupted by Argyle's loud and off-tune whistling. The two men entered the room, but Argyle was the only one who kept on walking. He took a brief glance at the woman beside Melanie and asked, "Who's your friend, Miss P?" The room was silent. Argyle looked back towards Jarod, who was moving his mouth but couldn't speak.

Melanie looked back and forth between Margaret and Jarod before beginning, "She's--"

"My mother," Jarod whispered finally. 

"Jarod," Margaret breathed. After a few more moments of silence, a thump could be heard, for Jarod had dropped briefcase and ran to his mother. He swept her off her feet in a tight bear hug.

"Mom, you're really here?" he asked, his voice at a feverish-pitch. "I'm not dreaming this?"

"No," she chuckled, "you're not dreaming, son. Come on now, let me look at you." Jarod stepped back from her, still keeping his hands on her waist. Margaret looked him over and then finally placed her hands on his cheeks. "Oh, my son," she choked out. With that, Jarod took her into his arms once more.

Melanie started to back away. This long overdue reunion touched her, but it also made her feel out of place. She didn't belong there. This was Jarod's moment. So, she quietly slipped out of the room.

She didn't go unnoticed, however. Both Jarod and Margaret saw Parker leave. She released Jarod from their embrace and watched his eyes follow Melanie out. His love for her was so obvious in those expressive brown orbs. _Maybe Catherine's words were prophetic_, she thought to herself. 

"Go to her," she whispered in her son's ear. "She needs someone who loves her right now."

Jarod looked back into his mother's eyes, slightly shocked. "Are you saying that I'm. . .I'm in love with Melanie?"

"Are you _that_ dense?" she asked while chuckling and giving his arm a playful slap. "Yes. It's all too obvious. Now, go. I've found you, and I'm not going to let you go without a fight, so we'll have our time later. She's feeling a bit overwhelmed right now. Talk to her. Find out why." With that, Margaret went over to meet Argyle.

Jarod, scratching his head, made his way down the hall to Mel's room. He listened in for a moment, then tentatively knocked on her door. Without waiting for a response, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. Then he saw her sitting at the window seat, rocking slowly.

He walked up behind her and murmured, "You're distressed," while placing his hands in her hair. 

"How do you know?" she asked almost monotonously, keeping faced towards the window.

"You're rocking, Mel. You only do that when something's wrong," he softly rumbled, sitting beside her. After those words, they sat that way in silence; his feet on the floor and facing the room, she facing the window. 

"Jarod, how long have you known me?" she asked wearily.

"Since we were teenagers," he replied automatically. Parker looked him in the eyes then, and shook her head.

"Wrong. Just like everything else we've been led to believe," she muttered bitterly. Jarod didn't say anything, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "We've known each other our entire lives, starting with the day we were born," she continued.

"What do you mean?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"What I mean is that we were born at the same time, on the same day, in the same delivery room, side by side. That's what I'm saying, Jarod. Our mothers were in the same room. And what's more, you were kidnapped by the Centre when you were an infant." She looked him in the eyes again, tears welling up in hers. "More lies, Jarod," she remarked in a voice tight with restrained tears. "All the memories I have are lies. Where's the point in that?" she asked, her voice breaking. She exhaled sharply and pursed her lips to keep from crying.

Jarod closed his eyes and gingerly took her into his arms. He held her head against his chest while he stroked her hair soothingly. "That's what the Centre does best, Melanie," he murmured. "The only legacy they leave is one of lies. But we can rise above it, if we try. If we don't let them get to us, then they can't conquer or control us any longer. Focus on truth, not lies; good, not bad. Don't focus on hate, but love."

"What love?" Mel spat out. "The only two people who have ever truly loved me are dead and buried; both killed by the Centre."

Jarod knew. This was his moment, his chance. He put his hands on her cheeks and gently moved her head so he could look in her eyes. He took a deep breath before whispering, "_I _love you, Melanie. Doesn't that count for something?"

"Jarod," she whispered sadly, "it's not possible for you to love me. It's impossible for anyone to love me."

"If you would just trust in me, give me a chance, I could prove it to you," he murmured, lowering his head until their lips were almost touching.

"Are you demanding?" she asked after about a minute of silence.

"No," he whispered after an equal length pause. "I'm asking." He pressed his palm firmly to her cheek. "Trust me?"

Melanie closed her eyes and leaned into his touch while her inner demons fought with one another. After what seemed like forever, she slowly moved her hand up until it touched his hand on her cheek. Then she closed her fingers around part of it and drew it down to her mouth. Sighing tremulously, she placed a tender and light kiss to his palm and opened her eyes to look into his. After a tear slid from one eye, she whispered, "Yes, I trust you."

Jarod, sighing a breath of relief, wrapped his arms around her once more and held her to him. Melanie responded this time, bringing one hand to rest on the broad expanse of his chest, and draping the other one across his stomach. Before either of them knew it, they were fast asleep. It had indeed been a long and weary day. And they needed their rest, for the journey ahead would be tough and unrelenting for a very long time.

__


	8. Part Seven

This is the Way the World Ends

By Bethe

~*~

Part Seven

~*~

Parker lowered her sunglasses and looked at the form beside her. Jarod was reclining on a beach chair, eyes closed and soaking in some sun. Then she looked around until she found Margaret and Argyle. The two had formed an odd pair, developing a rapport that almost rivaled hers and Jarod's. 

Mel's thoughts drifted, yet again, to her own mother. While she felt happy that Jarod was finally reunited with the final piece of his family, she ached for her own. She had no one else, save Lyle. But then again, who would claim him? 

__

Ethan, her mother's voice whispered somewhere in the back of her mind. _Ethan's your brother._

Half-brother, she snapped mentally, then cringed. 

__

But he's still family, darling, whispered the voice again. _Yours and Jarod's. Cling to him. Don't let him go. . ._

Mamma! her mind cried out, but received no answer. She clenched her fist in frustration. What good was this so-called inner sense if she couldn't make heads or tails of it?

"Miss P?" Argyle asked, standing over her and dripping. She snapped back to reality and looked up.

"Yes?" she replied, putting on a smile for show. 

"It's time for lunch. We're gonna go inside and have sandwiches, then talk about our plan of attack, so to speak," he informed her. He reached out a hand to help her up. Before accepting it, she looked around to find Jarod gone.

"Where's Jarod?" she asked, scrunching her brow.

"Oh, J-Man went inside a long time ago. Said something about needing to make a phone call."

~*~

**__**

The Centre

"You knew," Jarod said as soon as Sydney answered the phone. Syd took a moment to sit down and clear his throat before replying.

"It's been a long time between calls, Jarod. I was starting to get worried."

"Don't play shrink with me," Jarod whispered dangerously. "You knew who my parents were. You knew who I was, and you didn't even tell me!"

"Jarod, just how am I supposed to know what you are speaking of?"

"Two words: Catherine Parker," he murmured deeply. Sydney looked up to the ceiling, then got up from his chair. He went to his file cabinet and opened up a drawer, then lifted the false bottom. There it was. A file of their session transcripts. He opened the folder and thumbed through it briefly.

"What about her, Jarod?" he asked nonchalantly, wanting Jarod to say it himself.

"C'mon, doc!" he drawled out, "You know what I'm talking about. She _was_ your patient, wasn't she? I'm sure she told you all about her little red-headed friend. And the strange coincidence that her child and her friend's child were born at the same time, in the same room. A child that was stolen from the nursery the night of his birth!"

Sydney dropped the file on his desk. He rubbed his face. "You said it yourself, Jarod," he replied, shaking his head, "she was my patient. You know very well that I keep patient confidentiality in high regard."

"Don't you think she would have wanted me to know?" Jarod asked, a hurt tone appearing in his voice. "She was planning to take me from the Centre and return me to my family. I think she would have forgiven one little slip of the tongue, Sydney."

"How did you find out?" he asked, moving to sit back down in his chair.

"I found my mother," Jarod replied softly. Sydney was about to offer congratulations when he heard a click, and then another voice come on the line; one decidedly female voice.

"You mean, _I _found your mother. Right, Boy Genius?"

"Parker," gasped Sydney. "Thank God you're alright!"

"Mel, what are you doing on this line?" Syd could hear Jarod cry out. 

"Jarod, Syd already knows that I'm not dead." Her tone softened. "Right, Freud?"

Sydney couldn't help but chuckle. Shaking his head, he whispered, "Yes, _cherie_. I've been so worried about you. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Syd. Just dandy. You?"

"I'm getting older, Parker. I think my--"

"Whoa!" Jarod interrupted loudly. "Beep beep, back up the truck! _What _is going on here?" he asked.

"Jarod," Parker murmured soothingly, "Sydney knew about my wonderful little plan. You could say I confided in him just like Mommy Dearest did a long, long time ago." Sydney smiled at her tone. She had changed over the past two years. She wasn't all hard edges anymore. In fact, her voice sounded more and more like her mother's.

"You mean," Jarod came back, "that you weren't really mourning when we went to her grave?" he directed at Sydney.

"I am sorry, Jarod, for the deception. But it was necessary to keep the ruse up," Sydney replied softly. "I had to make Raines believe that I thought she was dead. I only had your interests in mind."

"Don't you always?" Jarod sneered. "Did you have my best interests in mind when you neglected to fill me in on my family?" he asked grindingly. 

"Yes, Jarod," he replied after a long pause. "If you had known, you would have attempted to escape before you were ready."

"You're right," he said on a sob. "I'm sorry, Sydney."

Before the older man could say something, he heard the phone on the other end drop. Then he heard a distant, "Shh." He knew it would be futile to try to get Jarod's attention, so he sat and listened in. Soon, he could faintly hear Parker murmur in a low voice, "It's okay, Jarod. He understands. Don't beat yourself up. It's only natural for you to question his motives. God knows I have." Then, all speaking ceased. The only sounds to be heard were sounds of comfort, from Parker to Jarod. 

"Parker," Sydney murmured, biting his lip.

"Yeah?" she answered after a few moments.

"Will he be alright?"

"Give him time, Syd. It's a lot for him to take in over the course of a week. Hell, it's almost too much for me, too. I'll call later."

"So, I guess this signals the end of our communication silence?" Sydney asked hopefully.

"Yeah, it does," she whispered before hanging up the phone. 

Sydney did the same. He ran a hand through his thinning silver and sighed before thinking, _Maybe Catherine's predictions are coming true. They've found each other._

~*~

Mel stood up and smoothed the front of her jean shorts before helping Jarod to his feet. He teetered slightly before balancing. She knowingly raised an eyebrow and asked, "You've been drinking, haven't you?" He refused to meet her eyes, and she gave an exasperated sigh. "Jarod. . ."

"It was only a little bit," he protested.

"Yeah, just a little bit," she repeated sarcastically. "You're not completely sloshed, but you were well on your way," she commented, examining his eyes. "C'mon. I'll make you some coffee, and we'll have lunch."

She grabbed onto his arm, and he wordlessly followed her down the hall into the main kitchen. He sat down at the table and cradled his head in his hands while she started the coffee. She took one look over at him, and chuckled softly.

"What?" he asked groggily, lifting his head as far as he could without pain.

"Many things, really," she mused in a low voice. "I feel like a mother of a teenage child." She snuck a glance at Jarod. "The Golden Boy can't hold his liquor. And it strikes me as very ironic that _I'm_ taking care of _you_ while _you're_ drunk. Usually, I'm the one with the shot glass permanently affixed to my hand."

"Hey, J-Man, want a sandwich?" Argyle asked around a mouthful of food as he entered the room. Parker chuckled richly.

"He won't be wanting anything to eat for awhile," she commented, shaking her head.

"Oh," Argyle drew out after taking a look at the pitiful sight before him. Trying to be as silent as possible, the two left the kitchen, letting Jarod sleep it off.

~*~

"Margaret, there's something I need to ask you," Mel said later that night at the kitchen table after they'd finished dinner. 

"Go right ahead, dear."

"About two years ago, Raines said something about a DSA that my mother made, explaining her 'plan' in detail, but no one's ever been able to find it. Did she ever mention anything like that to you?"

Margaret creased her brow in concentration, then asked, "What's a 'DSA'?"

"Well," Mel replied, "the DSA itself is a small disc, like a mini-CD. On it would be stored surveillance footage, kind of like a videotape from a security camera." 

A look crossed Margaret's face before she got up from the table. Melanie followed closely behind. Once in Margaret's room, Jarod's mother rummaged around in one of her bags until she pulled out a wax-sealed manila envelope. She held it forward and said, "Catherine gave me this, along with the scrolls. Now, while she asked me to return the scrolls to Carthis, she begged me to keep this with me always. She never said why, or what it was, or who it was meant for. But she told me to make sure it never left my side."

Wide-eyed, Parker reached forward and gently accepted the envelope from Margaret's hands. She looked up into the older woman's eyes and uttered a silent thanks. 

She ran from Margaret's room into her own and pulled out Jarod's DSA player. Running a finger through the flap, she broke past the seal of the envelope and opened it. She turned it over and sure enough, a small, silver disc slid out of the envelope and into her hand. Excitement surging through her, she slipped the disc in the machine and waited for it to load. 

It was almost finished when she heard her mother's voice inside her head, stronger and clearer than ever before. _This is my legacy to you, my child. . ._

A black and white image froze on the screen before the footage began to roll. Parker gasped as she realized that it was a picture of the scrolls. She put her hands over her mouth and proceeded to watch.

~*~

__

Catherine Parker moved back from the camera and sat down in a chair, smoothing down the front of her dress and tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear before looking up. She smiled shakily.

"Darling Melanie," she began, "if you're watching this DSA, that means that I have died. Before I go any further I just want to tell you how sorry I am that I had to make you go through all that pain associated with my 'suicide'. I had to do it, Darling, for Ethan's sake." She lovingly placed a hand on her very swollen abdomen.

"He's due any day now, or so he tells me. But you will hear about Ethan later, from Jarod. What I have to tell you about concerns the plan that I want you to continue after I'm gone." She reached beside her and pulled the scrolls out of a bag.

"These, Precious, are the Vespasian Scrolls. I'm sure they look old and dingy to you, but their words contain the future of the Centre. I've been studying them for weeks, and have come to realize that they have been read before, by your Great-grandfather Parker." She unrolled one of them. She cleared her throat and adjusted the scroll until it was just the right distance.

"The Centre shall rise," she recited. "The Chosen will be found: a boy named Jarod." She set the document in her lap and looked back up at the camera. "Your father knows nothing of what's written. The only thing he knows for certain is that Jarod is a vital key to the Centre's future. If only he knew the rest of the story," she chuckled. Then she lifted the scroll back up.

"The Chosen will merge with an Angel," she read, then looked up. "I can only interpret that to signify you. What it means exactly, I don't know." She looked back at the scroll. "When this holy merger is complete, the Centre shall fall. The Three will vanish." 

Catherine reached down and picked up a glass of water. She took a sip before saying, "What I can make out of this is that if you and Jarod work together, you can bring the Centre to its knees. With the downfall of the Centre, the Triumvirate will tuck tail and run, leaving you alone. I can't be extremely certain of this, but my inner sense causes me to believe it." She brought up the other scroll.

"There's more on the first scroll, but I want to go over this one. It talks more of the Angel than the Chosen. I have made another DSA about the first scroll for Jarod. I wasn't able to get it out of the Centre before my hand was forced. You'll have to go and get it yourself. Sydney knows all the secrets," she commented mysteriously, fingering the St. Christopher's medal around her neck. 

"The Angel is one of two," Catherine read, now looking at the scroll. "One is fire, the other is ice. They will be separated after they come into the world. But he shall return, seeming to be Satan himself. The Ice Angel and the Fire Devil will fight to the death, yet both live. When the Angel merges with the Chosen, the Devil gives up his fire. The Chosen and the Angel will rule, but even Angels fall." She set both scrolls back on the floor and looked up at the camera.

"If you don't know already, you have a twin brother. I had been told that he'd died at birth, but I recently found out otherwise. I know this refers to him. I don't know what it means by 'even Angels fall.' But I urge you to be careful."

She stood up and walked towards the camera, stopping when her face was directly in front of the lens. "My darling daughter, again, I am sorry that I had to leave you alone in this world. I love you so very much. Trust in Jarod. He's your destiny. I knew it since the day you two were born. Before he was taken that night, I had managed to see the two of you in the nursery, side by side. You both were reaching for each other. He's your destiny, and you are his. Trust him."

With tears falling down her face, her arm moved out of frame. "Goodbye, Melanie Ann," she whispered. Static.

~*~

"My God," came Jarod's voice behind her. She started at the sound but didn't turn. Almost immediately after she'd gasped, he placed his hands on her shoulders. Jarod knelt behind her and rested his forehead at the base of her neck.

She stretched her arm out and pointed at the screen, but still said nothing. Finally, she took a breath and croaked out, "Mamma. . ." 

Jarod moved into a sit and started rubbing her arms. He placed a kiss to the back of her head and whispered, "Will you be alright?"

"I don't know, Jarod. Am I ever alright?" she asked. She turned to face him, her cheeks surprisingly tear-free. "I'm not going to go off and kill myself, if that's what you want to know. I'm just a little overwhelmed. That's all," she remarked matter-of-factly. 

Jarod gently stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. "I'm overwhelmed, and that DSA wasn't even meant for me," he joked, causing Parker to crack a slight smile. "I still don't understand what the plan is," he murmured, leaning forward until their foreheads touched.

"Take down the Centre. Duh," she said, smiling. "So, how does it feel to be Neo?"

"Neo?" Jarod asked, moving back to look her in the eyes.

"Yeah, Neo. You know. You're the Chosen One; the One? Matrix ring a bell?"

"Oh, you're referring to the role played by Keanu Reeves in a science-fiction film?"

"The Matrix."

Jarod smiled almost wickedly, and she knew he was having one on her. She slapped his arm playfully, but then grew serious. "What's our next step?" she asked.

"She said the other DSA was at the Centre; that Sydney knows all of the secrets." The two looked at each other. "I guess it's time to depart from sunny North Carolina," he remarked sadly.

~*~

"Mom, it's just not safe!" Jarod exclaimed an hour later. "You can't go to Blue Cove with us. Do you recall being shot at Carthis?"

"Yes, son. But I feel like I must go. Something inside is telling me to go with you."

The two had a stare-down. Neither would release their position on this. Melanie, watching from aside, allowed herself a small smile. They obviously could be stubborn when they wanted to be. Like mother, like son.

"Now, children," Parker broke the thick silence in a mock-motherly tone, "let's try to compromise. Jarod," she addressed him, "your mother is old enough to make her own decisions. Margaret," she turned to face the woman, "your son only has your best interests in mind. Now, that being taken into consideration, I think she should go."

Jarod looked her in the eyes, and sighed. He nodded and said, "You're right. I was just being too stubborn for my own good."

"Besides," Margaret murmured, "I haven't seen my husband in thirty years." That statement caused Jarod to look at his mother with new eyes. He had totally forgotten that they had been separated just as long as he had. 

"We leave in two days," he whispered before leaving the room.

~*~

Mel drummed her fingers on the table the next day while holding the phone to her ear. When Sydney answered on the other end, she said, "Hey, Dr. Spock."

"Parker!" he whispered frantically, "You really shouldn't be calling here at this time."

"I needed to talk with you," she murmured, playing with a scrap of paper on the table top.

"Parker," he replied, "I would love nothing more than to have a conversation with you right now, but something terrible just happened."

"What? What happened?" she asked, sitting up straight. Something began to whisper inside her head, but she shook it away so she could hear what Sydney had to say.

"Miss Parker, your brother, he's. . .he's dead."

"Lyle's dead?" she asked incredulously. How could he be dead? He'd never allow it to happen.

"No, not Lyle," Sydney whispered harshly. "Your _other_ brother."

"What? Syd, how could he be dead? He was a healthy, happy child. I made sure of that."

"Well," the psychiatrist answered uneasily, "Raines made sure that he was found. The problem is that he wasn't really your brother. It's all too confusing, Parker. We should discuss this at a later time."

"The hell we will, Sydney," she gritted, "Talk. Now."

"Parker. . .he was your father's clone. Brigitte was merely the surrogate mother. Mr. Parker wanted to ensure that someone of the Parker name would run the Centre. Since he was sterile, he used his DNA instead. But Raines found out about it and had him killed."

Melanie didn't reply. Instead, she sank down in her chair and held her head with her hand. Her brother. . .no, he wasn't her brother. To tell the truth, she didn't know what he was. But she did know that she'd delivered him into this world. She had been the first, and probably the only one, to hold him and look on him in love. And now he was gone. Tears began to fall from her eyes as she let out a desperate sob.

"Parker, I'm truly sorry," Sydney murmured, but she didn't reply. Instead, she hung up and ran for her room. She closed the door loudly behind her and sank to her knees on the floor. Guttural sobs were wrenched from her throat as she tore at her hair. The odd thing was that it wasn't really his death that affected her this much; it was the fact that she'd completely forgotten him over the past two years. Well, she hadn't really forgotten him, but she'd ignored him. 

Her mind called back to memory the way his blue eyes had pleaded with hers the night before she'd left. They hadn't exchanged words at all, just looks. He had practically begged her to take him with her. It would have been so easy to take him along, and pass him off as her son. But deep down, she had been afraid; afraid of being "mommy." So, she left him, crying on the doorstep of his new foster family. And now, she truly regretted her selfish decision. 

She covered her mouth with her hands and gasped for breath repeatedly. She jerked when she felt the hands on her shoulders, but immediately turned and went into the warm and welcoming embrace. Jarod stroked her hair and just held her, rocking back and forth ever so slightly. 

"Mel," he murmured after a long silence, "What is it? What's wrong?"

She moved her head back and looked into his eyes, searching them. Then she brought her lips to his in a deep kiss, full of longing. When they parted, she whispered, "Jarod, do you love me?"

"Of course I do," he breathed. She captured his lips again in a searing kiss.

"Then prove it," she half-demanded in a rusty voice. She kissed him yet again and pressed her body flush against his. 

"Melanie, I--" He was silenced by another kiss that ignited a passion deep within him. "I can't take advantage of you that way," he continued. "Especially when you're emotional like this," he murmured. 

Her tear-filled eyes burned into his as she whispered, "Please?" Again, she kissed him, and he felt himself giving in. When he circled his arms tightly around her waist, he knew the deal was as good as done. He picked her up, his lips still on hers, and moved her to the bed. 

~*~

"Baby Parker is dead," she murmured. They were lying on the bed, arms and legs entwined. She lazily toyed with the coarse, curling hair on his chest with a finger.

Jarod looked down at the top of her head, then placed a firm kiss to it. "I'm sorry, Mel," he whispered. 

"I had called Sydney to talk to him about us. . .you and me. But when he dropped that bomb on me, all my intentions were forgotten. Today, I've learned not only that my youngest brother is dead, but that he's not my brother at all." She said nothing more after this, continuing to lightly draw circles on his chest.

"What do you mean?" he asked after a few moments.

"He. . ." her voice somewhat faltered, "he was my father's clone. Brigitte had merely been a warm womb to him," she whispered. "Raines found him and got rid of him. So now, Ethan and Lyle are all I have left." Then she lifted her head so she could see those deep brown eyes. "And I have you," she murmured. Then her expression turned very serious as she whispered, "Jarod, I love you. I don't know when, or where, or even how it happened, but I love you." 

Jarod lightly touched her face. He didn't say a word, but his eyes spoke volumes. He moved he head down and kissed her gently. Then Mel rested her head against his shoulder, her hand still entangled in his chest hair. They remained that way in silence for a long time. Words weren't needed. 

~*~

It was a very ragged, and very exhausted bunch that pulled into Blue Cove the next night. They had been on the road all day, stopping only for gas, and their stomachs now complained for not being fed. Jarod had chosen lodging at a rather scummy-looking hotel, but no one complained. It provided the perfect cover. 

After separating into their rooms; Jarod and Argyle, Margaret and Melanie; each set ordered room service and then fell asleep. However, Mel awoke to a big surprise the next morning.

She slowly faded into consciousness, faintly aware of another presence in the room. Her senses sharpened, and she instinctively reached for her gun while sitting up straight and aiming it at the intruding presence. Then she opened her eyes.

"Lyle!" she exclaimed softly, half in fear and half in anger. He wasn't supposed to show up and ruin their plan. She quickly got up from bed and strode over to him, jabbing the gun at his chest. "What the hell are you doing here, you sick son of a bitch?" she asked icily. She then looked around and noticed the absence of Margaret. "Where is she?" she barked. "If you've hurt one little red hair on her head, so help me," she ground out from the back of her throat, "I'll put a nice little bullet in that place where your heart should be."

"Relax, Sis," he said in that annoyingly friendly tone of voice. He put his hands up in the air and said, "I'm on your side, here. Trust me."

"Trust you?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. Then she muttered, "I think I'm gonna puke."

"Do you detest me _that_ much?" he asked in jest. 

"You haven't answered my question," she replied forcefully. "Why. Are. You. Here?" she asked, jabbing the gun into his chest with each word for emphasis. 

Lyle cringed slightly, then slowly moved his finger to the barrel of the gun and pushed it away from his chest. "That won't solve anything. Besides, if you kill me, that's a federal offense."

Parker raised her eyebrows incredulously. "And how would that be?"

Lyle reached into his jacked and pulled out a badge. "Agent Lyle Parker, FBI," he said, his tone very formal and business-like. To Mel's amazement, his slimy demeanor melted away and he assumed the persona of a law-enforcement worker.

"You expect me to believe this?" she asked coldly, aiming the gun back at him. "If I can be a pretender, so can you."

"The only thing I've _pretended_ to be was Mr. Lyle, Centre demon. I'm part of an ongoing sting inside the Centre by the Feds."

"If you really are undercover, then why hasn't the Centre been shut down yet?" she asked, still not believing him.

"The FBI wants me to find out who top dog is. I'm tellin ya, it ain't Raines," he drawled, a southern accent coming to the fore. "There's another player here, one that we haven't figured out yet. But when we do, it's curtains for the Centre."

Parker's nostrils flared slightly before she stormed out of the hotel room. She stalked over to Jarod's room and crisply knocked on the door. When he opened the door, he took in her appearance and quickly asked what was wrong. Then he noticed Lyle following behind her, and he pulled her into the room. But before he could close the door, Lyle stopped it and pulled it back open.

"Hear me out, Parker," he pleaded, blocking the doorway. "I'm telling the truth." The room was silent for a time. Then Mel stepped in front of Jarod, her eyes questioning. "Ever since you left, I've been keeping a close tab on you. I knew where you worked, where you lived, and who you went out with. When I learned that Jarod had found you, I knew it was time to reveal myself."

__

You can trust him, Darling. . .

"The Devil gives up his fire," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. 

"What?" Jarod finally managed, looking at the woman he loved. She looked back at him and took a deep breath.

"My mother. . .in the DSA," she whispered breathlessly. "When the Angel merges with the Chosen. . ." She trailed off.

"The Devil gives up his fire," Jarod finished, turning his gaze on the man in the doorway. "I'm still not sure I understand," he commented.

"I do," Mel whispered harshly. "More lies." With that, she silently walked out of the room. Jarod would have followed, but his mother's hand to his arm stopped him.

"Let her be, son," she whispered. "She needs to be alone."

~*~

A week went by, and no word from Melanie. Margaret was beginning to regret her decision to stop Jarod from chasing after her, but she knew ultimately that she was right. If Mel didn't want to be found, then she wouldn't. 

Jarod, on the other hand, was beside himself. Strangely enough, the only comfort he received was from Lyle. Jarod learned a lot about him during that dark time.

Lyle probably now held the record for longest time undercover in FBI history. He had been part of the Centre for almost ten years, and he hated it. It all started when Lyle had been approached in college by an FBI recruiter. At that point in time, the Centre was beginning to step on a few very important toes in government, and the FBI had recently learned of Lyle's connection. He'd had no idea, of course. But they told him. And after he'd learned of what the Centre was capable, he quickly signed on. 

In a whirlwind period, they developed the cover of Bobby Bowman. With the right equipment, yearbooks with Bobby had been manufactured, fake ID's, newspaper clippings, and the house and shed where "Bobby" lived. Oddly enough, the Centre was gullible enough to believe it. Lyle had even gone to the point of inventing his cannibal/serial murderer profile. That little touch clinched it for him. He was in, and Daddy Dearest had never been prouder. 

Now, looking back, Lyle regretted even becoming involved. He had seen too many things, had been made to do things he didn't want to do: like murder Jarod's brother. Kyle was still a touchy subject with Lyle. Not a day had gone by that he didn't feel remorse for what he had done. But what was important was that he had Jarod's forgiveness. 

~*~

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if it isn't Jarod, the Great Pretender!" Melanie exclaimed as she staggered into the room two weeks after her disappearing act. Back in Miss Parker garb, she walked over to him and jabbed a finger in his face. "Did you _pretend_ to love me? Eh? Lies, Jarod. That's what it's all about, isn't it? Life is just one big hokey-pokey of lies." She smiled wickedly before stumbling and falling to her knees. Jarod did nothing to help her up. Instead, he crossed his arms.

"You're drunk," he commented.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious!" she exclaimed before laughing. Then her expression turned serious. "What are you going to do about it? Eh, Rat Boy?" she asked menacingly.

"Sis, you really shouldn't be drinking," Lyle remarked pleasantly from the other side of the room. She turned her head sharply and gave him the glare of death.

"What?"

"I said that you shouldn't be drinking: it's not good for the baby," he said, looking her in the eyes. She turned ashen.

"What baby?" she asked quietly. 

"Don't tell me you don't know already?" he asked incredulously. Then a look crossed his face. "Or did your two week romp with Jack drown out the voice of reason?"

"What baby?" she repeated.

"I know you're smarter than that, Parker," he whispered.

"How did you know?"

"The same way you know," he replied, his features turning soft. Mel rubbed her forehead, her buzz already wearing off.

"You mean to tell me that you've had the inner sense all along, and you never bothered to inform me?" she asked, sounding hurt. 

"I couldn't, Sis," he explained, "it would have blown my cover. And besides, it was all I had left of Mom."

Jarod had been watching the entire situation unfold, but his mind was still stuck on one word: baby. Baby? Did that mean. . ._Of course, that's what it means! Genius? I think not_, his mind scolded him. Dazed, he sunk down into a chair. The noise caused the conversing twins to stop and look at him.

"Oh, Jarod," Mel whispered, instantly sober. Then they both looked to Lyle, who merely shrugged.

"Hey, I'm just the messenger. But, since this has to be big news, I'll leave you two to discuss it. I think I'm going to find Margaret, see how she's doing." Lyle quietly left the room. After the door was shut, Parker placed a hand over her mouth.

"I didn't know," she whispered. "I swear. If I'd known, I wouldn't have drank anything." Tears welled up in her eyes. "You don't think it hurt the baby, do you?" she asked breathlessly, her face paling by the second.

Jarod ran a hand through his hair multiple times as his brain raced to come up with an answer. He looked up at her and asked, "Have you been drinking for two weeks?"

"No," she replied, bringing her hand down. "Just yesterday. That's it."

Jarod sighed in relief. "No, I don't think it would cause lasting harm," he said. After a long silence between them, Jarod whispered, "We're going to have a baby?"

Mel did an odd thing then. She glanced at the floor and cocked her head slightly to one side, as if she were listening intently. Then she looked up as a tear rolled down her cheeks. "Yeah," she whispered in wonderment. A look of horror crossed her face. "Oh, Jarod," she gasped, "I'm sorry for what I said about you."

"Don't apologize," he murmured, getting up and walking over to her. "It's in the past. We have to focus on the future for our child." He took her face in his hands and rested his forehead on hers. "It's hard to believe I'm going to be a father," he whispered.

Mel looked down and drew back slightly. Refusing to look at him, she whispered, "Do you regret it?"

His eyes softened immediately, as did his voice. "I don't regret loving you," he told her softly, "I don't regret what we did." He gently pushed her face up so he could see her eyes. "And I don't regret that you're going to be the mother of my child," he whispered huskily, his own eyes becoming dark as he lightly placed a hand on her still-flat stomach. 

Melanie felt a flood of emotion wash over her at his tender touch. When she composed herself, she asked, "Is it just me, or have these past two weeks seemed abrupt?"

"Very abrupt," he murmured, pulling her closer. "Jerky, even. But that's over now, and it's smoothing out again."

"What's the next move?" Mel asked before placing a tentative kiss on his lips.

"Find that second DSA," he replied after returning the kiss. "Then, make the future safe for our baby."


	9. Part Eight

This is the Way the World Ends

By Bethe

~*~

Part Eight

~*~

"Is it safe to come in?" Lyle asked after knocking on the door. After receiving no answer, he quietly turned the knob and walked in the room. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Parker and Jarod lying on the bed together, asleep. 

__

Uncle Lyle? came a small voice inside his mind. Lyle's face softened into a smile at the sound.

__

Hey, Kitten, he replied mentally to his niece, who was barely formed inside Miss Parker. _How are you doing?_

I'm fine, Uncle Lyle.

You haven't spoken to your mother yet, have you? Lyle asked. The following silence could only mean that she hadn't. _Why? _

Mommy doesn't embrace her gift yet. She likes to think she does, but she doesn't. 

Lyle sighed and knew it to be true. _Will you ever call out to her?_

In time, she replied wisely. Then, all was quiet. He could only assume that she had fallen asleep as well. With one last look to the sleeping pair, Lyle walked out the door and softly shut it.

~*~

Mel sighed in exasperation. She covered her eyes with her hands and asked, "Syd, do you have _any_ idea where it could be?"

"Parker, I've told you, I don't know where Catherine could have left that DSA," Sydney replied, sounding just as exasperated. 

Melanie paced back and forth while unconsciously slipping a hand to her abdomen. She closed her eyes and tried to think when she heard another voice come on the line that said, "Angelo knows."

She stopped dead in her tracks and looked at the phone. "Angelo?" she asked, "You know where it is?" She could hear something that resembled a chuckle.

"Miss Parker should check email often," he said like a devious little boy.

"Thank you, Angelo," she whispered before pressing a button that hung up the phone. Then she raced to find Jarod's laptop. Once accessing her inbox, she saw that there was indeed one new message. "Jarod!" she bellowed. 

He stumbled out of the bathroom holding a razor in his right hand and blood trickling down his left cheek. There was shaving cream slathered on the right side of his face. "What?" he asked breathlessly.

Biting her lip to keep herself from laughing, she whispered, "We got it." Jarod's eyes grew as wide as the smile on his face. He paused for a few beats before running to give her a big hug. "Wait a minute!" she exclaimed while raising her hands, putting a halt to his movements. "Finish shaving first, then hug me. Genius," she muttered with a smirk of her own.

~*~

__

"Jarod," Catherine Parker said after the screen flickered to life, "this DSA is for you. You may or may not know about the Vespasian Scrolls right now, but they know about you. In fact, you are the key player. I'm afraid I don't have much time. This is going to be short." She nervously looked around before continuing.

"As I said, you are a key player in these scrolls. And, I believe, so is my daughter. She's detailed more in the second scroll, so I made another DSA for her. You, on the other hand, are mentioned mainly in the first scroll, so that's the one we'll be going over." She bent down and picked up the scroll in question.

"The Centre shall rise. The Chosen will be found: a boy named Jarod. The Chosen will reside at the Centre for many years, and be of great benefit. Upon realizing the corruption there, he will leave. Many years will he toil to bring down the Centre, but its foundation will remain firm. The Chosen will merge with an Angel. When this holy merger is complete, the Centre shall fall. The Three will vanish. The New Legacy will begin with the Chosen and the Angel. A New Three will rise and aid the New Legacy. Corruption will remain no longer. The Centre shall rise."

When she finished, she put the scroll back down and looked straight at the camera. "I don't understand much of this scroll. But what I do understand is that only when you and my daughter join forces will the evil corruption that is the Centre fall. The new legacy begins with you, Jarod. With you, and with my Melanie. Take care of her Jarod." Tears streamed down her face.

"Even angels fall."

Static

~*~

"That's the second time we've heard that," Parker murmured after shutting off the computer.

"Heard what?" Jarod asked, facing her.

"Even angels fall," she repeated softly. She slipped a hand to her stomach before looking in his eyes. "Not this Angel," she whispered determinedly.

"No," Jarod whispered back, touching her face gently, "not this Angel."

After a few moments of gazing into each other's eyes, their lips met in a searing kiss. Desire welled up in both of them until they could put it off no longer. Jarod picked her up and placed her on the bed, covering her body with his.

~*~

"What did you do?" Jarod asked afterward. Mel looked down at him. His head was resting on her stomach, his hands stroking the sides of her thighs. Each time his fingers moved up, they would graze the fabric of his shirt that she had just put on.

"What do you mean?" She stretched her arm down and played with his still-long hair.

"During those two weeks," he murmured, "what did you do?"

"I went back to my house," she said without hesitation. She knew he'd be asking, and she could only tell him the truth. "Here, in Blue Cove. Oddly enough, no one lives in it and it's the same as it's ever been. I found some of my old clothes, tried to put them on, and cried like a baby when they didn't fit." She smiled. "I'm getting fat, and it's not the pregnancy. So, I went out and bought new clothes. . .Miss Parker clothes." She shuddered as she managed those words. "Then I went and visited some old haunts, saw some old 'friends', and the like. I started getting really depressed about two days before I came back here. All the voices in my head decided to shout at once, for long periods of time, and that hurt worse than any hangover I've ever had. Also, I really didn't want to trust Lyle. But I'm okay now," she murmured, now raking both hands through Jarod's hair.

"Do you still love me?" he asked, turning his deep brown eyes to her cool blue ones.

"Yes," she purred, smiling lazily at him. "Any more questions?"

"Just one," he murmured. He shifted his head until his chin was lightly resting on her stomach and grabbed her hands. He kissed each one, then her stomach before looking back up at her. "Mel, will you marry me?" he asked in a whisper, sounding slightly choked up.

Parker took his face between her hands and slowly sat up. "Do you mean it?" she asked breathlessly.

Jarod sat up as well and placed his hands on her upper arms. "Yes, Mel. I love you, and I don't want our child to go without having both parents. Will you be my wife?" he asked gently. Seemingly from out of nowhere, he produced a slender silver ring with a small diamond. "I know it's not that big, but--"

"Oh, Jarod," she breathed, cutting him off. "It's perfect. Yes. I'll marry you," she whispered, looking from the ring to his face. She pursed her lips the same way she did in front of Ocee's fireplace and took a deep breath. "I'll marry you," she whispered again.

Jarod couldn't help but give a goofy grin as he slid the ring on her finger. At her questioning look, he simply shrugged and said, "I've just been waiting for this day for years."

"Have you?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. 

"Yes," Jarod replied, reaching between them and tucking a loose tendril of hair behind her ear, "I have." 

Mel settled back against the headboard. Jarod moved with her and rested his head against her chest, listening to her heart beat a strong and steady rhythm. She buried her fingers in his hair and asked, "So, when were you thinking of going through with it?" She lazily raked her hand through the long brown strands. 

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" she asked, going stiff. "It's impossible, Jarod. We'll have to get a license, and then wait for 72 hours. Besides, don't you want to get used to the idea?"

Jarod moved his head up and looked her in the eyes. "I've had thirty years to get used to the idea, Mel," he whispered. Then he smiled. "Besides, I know a guy." Neither of them said a word for a few moments.

"Giuseppe?" she murmured arching that eyebrow again. After his nod, she rolled her eyes. "Figures," she muttered. "Did you know that he--"

"Oh, Father Giuseppe and I have shared many stories," he rumbled laying his head back down.

"Oh, God," she whispered, chuckling. "Fine. You win. Tomorrow it is. But I would think it wise to inform your mother first. And, you know, maybe the rest of your family would like to know."

"They will," he replied simply. "They will."

~*~

Despite her seeming indifference, Melanie glowed on her wedding day. Because of the hasty preparations, there wasn't enough time to get proper wedding clothes, so Jarod wore a black suit and Melanie found a presentable white dress on a clearance rack at a nearby store. 

The day went by in a blur. Every member of the group took pictures, both with a camera and with their minds. They all wanted to remember this day. It would be one of the last joyful days in the time to come. It would be their beacon of hope, when no hope seemed to be left. Indeed, this day was to be a beginning: a new life for a couple in love, a new relationship between brother and sister, new camaraderie between in-laws, and a new leg of the very long journey to the end.


	10. Part Nine

This is the Way the World Ends

By Bethe

~*~

Part Nine

~*~

__

Savoring the feel of the lush carpet of grass underneath her feet and between her toes, Melanie sticks her hands in her back pockets and closes her eyes. The warmth of the sun on her face causes her to smile. She can feel the soft breeze play with her hair. Opening her eyes, she smiles again at the sight of her daughter, who is giggling wildly with joy while running through the sprinkler.

"It is time, my love," comes a soft voice inside Mel's mind. "You must tell him."

She closes her eyes again and lets her arms fall to her sides. "I can't, Mamma. It would break his heart." Her daughter's wild shriek causes her to open her eyes once more, and she sees that Jarod, of whom they had been speaking, is taking his daughter in his arms and twirling her around in the air. A tear falls from her eye. "I just can't."

A loud crash of thunder caused Parker to sit upright, panting and placing a hand to her chest. She tried to calm her racing mind and heart, and was succeeding, but jumped again when she felt a hand to her bare shoulder.

"Melanie, what's wrong?" Jarod asked in a voice thick from sleep. "Another nightmare?"

"No," she replied, closing her eyes. "You know, I've never liked storms," she commented, lying back down beside her husband. "Too many bad memories associated with them."

"And, of course," Jarod murmured, taking her into his arms, "there had to be one such storm on the night of our wedding."

"Well," she said after a few moments of silence, "at least we're not in that rickety hotel. There'd probably be more water inside, than out."

Jarod chuckled. "True." He surveyed his surroundings. Out of all the times he had covertly visited Miss Parker's bedroom, he had never even imagined sleeping there, much less with her. But ever since Mel had found her house exactly the way she left it, the plan had been changed. She and Jarod would have their first night together alone, then the rest of the group would move in to continue operations. It would become their base, their headquarters. 

"Although, it does make me feel for those who didn't have the good fortune to get married today," Melanie mused. 

"They'll get here soon enough," he replied. "Let's just enjoy our one night _alone_." 

Mel chuckled, then turned serious. She propped herself up on one elbow and looked into Jarod's eyes. "I just can't get out of my head," she whispered, "that Mom never told us what exactly her plan was. It makes me wonder if there isn't some other DSA or document detailing it."

Jarod reached over and pressed his palm to her cheek, rubbing her soft skin with his thumb. "We'll find out," he whispered back, equally serious. "We'll find out."

~*~

Lyle leaned against the wall of his sister's den and looked at the floor. A wave of melancholy washed over him. It had been two weeks since his sister's wedding, but he couldn't rid himself of the thoughts that he had on that day. 

Two weeks ago, he'd seen his sister glow for the first time, and that made him feel more horrible. For so many years, he'd helped to deny both Parker and Jarod the happiness they had now. When they said their vows to each other, Lyle couldn't help but long for that happiness for himself. Melanie probably wouldn't believe it, but all he wanted was to settle down with a family. A real family, not the dysfunctional one he was a part of at the moment. He wanted a wife and children, but karma was not in his favor. He'd committed too many evils in his lifetime to deserve anything good like that. And what made it all the worse was Jarod's sister.

__

Emily. The name flowed like crystal clear water in his mind. Despite popular belief, he hadn't tried to kill her years ago. He sent someone else to do the dirty work, but took the credit for it. And now that he'd met her, he regretted yet another action performed in the hopes of bringing down the Centre. She was something pure, something that only honorable men could strive for. But not Lyle. No, Lyle didn't even deserve the time of day from her. Living in the same house made it almost unbearable.

Lyle, the typical man that he was, wouldn't allow himself to tell anyone of his feelings. Instead he preferred to wallow alone. But Jarod, who was a very intuitive person, could sense something wasn't quite right. He'd made many attempts to subtly get his brother-in-law to talk, but it never worked. So when he saw Lyle leaning against the wall, alone, Jarod knew that he had to be forward.

"What's her name?" he rumbled as he walked towards his wife's twin, taking a stab at what the problem could be. Lyle swallowed and slowly looked up at Jarod.

"What do you mean?" he asked in a cool voice.

"You've been in a funk for a long time, Lyle. Who is she?" he asked, a small smile flitting across his face. Lyle worked his jaw and looked back to the floor, as if mentally wrestling with something. Then he looked back up.

"If I tell you, you have to promise not to be angry," he whispered, sounding as vulnerable as a child. Jarod's expression immediately turned serious and he glanced around momentarily.

"Let's go outside," he murmured, nodding his head towards the door. He led his brother-in-law out to the back porch and sat down in a chair. Lyle tentatively sat down in the swing across from Jarod. After a long period of silence, he clasped his hands in front of him and looked at his feet.

"At first, I wasn't down because of any one specific woman. I was more depressed at what I had become. If any date were to hear of the atrocities I've committed, she'd probably drop what she was holding and get the hell outta Dodge," he murmured, keeping his eyes down. "But now. . .I've met someone. I don't deserve her, Jarod," he whispered. 

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Jarod replied, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his knees. "What's her name?"

Lyle looked up into his eyes with a guarded expression. "Emily," he said, his body tensing up in preparation for the beating that was sure to come. Instead, Jarod slowly sat back. He rubbed his chin with his forefinger and thumb. "You don't have to worry, though," Lyle stated quickly. "I won't pursue anything." 

"Lyle, Lyle, Lyle," Jarod murmured while holding up his hand, "First of all, I'm not her father, so I can't tell you that you aren't allowed to see her. And also, you're selling yourself short. The Lyle I know," he said, taking a breath, "definitely deserves someone like Emily." He smiled. "Give it a shot. Try to further your friendship. Take it slowly." He smiled again. "Just keep in mind that if you hurt her, I'll have to kill you," he said seriously before standing up and patting the bewildered man on the shoulder. 

Lyle simply sat back, a dazed expression playing upon his countenance. He had a lot of thinking to do.

~*~

"Did you get ahold of Sydney?" Mel asked huskily later that night when Jarod's entrance into the room had roused her from an uneasy slumber. She kept her eyes closed and remained facing away from the door. 

"No," came his soft reply. "He wasn't in today. I think his secretary said he was attending some symposium on studies of the effects of separation on identical twins."

"That's right up Freud's alley," she said, her voice still thick from sleep. She grunted in surprise when she felt Jarod's strong arms pull her to him, molding her back to his front. When he buried his face in her hair and took a few deep breaths, she asked, "What's wrong?" He only did this when he was upset over something. "I know you wanted to talk to Syd today, but he should be back soon," she offered, thinking that was the problem.

"That's not it," he whispered, his breath tickling the delicate skin of her neck. "I think your brother's in love."

"_Lyle? _With who?" she asked softly, bringing her hands to his forearms.

Jarod sighed deeply into the back of her head. "My sister."

Immediately, Mel wished she could turn around and hold him in her arms, but knew that he found comfort holding her. "What makes you think that?" she asked, her hands covering his over her stomach.

"He practically told me," he murmured distantly. "He never used the word 'love', but I could see it in his eyes." He sighed again. "Lyle's convinced that he doesn't deserve her. Part of me debates that, but a small part agrees with that view. What if he hurts her, Mel? He's done it before, and he could do it again just as easily."

Parker's mind frantically raced for an easy answer, but could find none. She bit her lip. Then she closed her eyes and whispered, "You can't base a life on What Ifs, Jarod. Emily's a big girl now. She can make her own decisions." She took a breath. "Besides, she likes him, too."

Jarod said nothing. So that was how it was going to be. Mel opened her eyes.

"I got another email from Angelo about my mother," she said softly. She waited until she could feel him paying attention. "It hints at another DSA, but not a clue about where it is." She paused. "I might have to go back."

Melanie could feel Jarod's arms tighten around her, half in anger and half in concern. He whispered, "You can't. They'll crucify you."

"Not if I do it the right way," she whispered back. "Jarod, I can get the upper hand if I beat Raines to the punch. And now, with Lyle on our side, we can work together to get him out of the picture completely. Then the Centre will be ours to do with what we wish," she said, trying to convince herself. "It can work."

He sighed. "Do what you feel you have to, Parker. I'll help you, but I don't agree with you on it. You're just asking for trouble." He held her closer. "I don't want to lose you again," he murmured in her ear. "Not to mention," his voice got even softer, "the baby."

A tear slid down the side of her nose. "Just trust me, Jarod."


	11. Part 10

This is the Way the World Ends

By Bethe

~*~

Part Ten

~*~

Broots sat in front of his computer, his fingers flying over the keys as always. Occasionally, he would break his cadence to pop another potato chip in his mouth. It was the same routine he performed everyday. Look for leads, eat potato chips, look for leads, drink coffee, look for leads, go home. But today, something broke that routine; a sound that seemed slightly off.

His jaw slowed its chewing as he listened intently. After hearing nothing, he simply shrugged and continued with his typing. He only slowed once more when he noticed that Sydney and Lyle's incessant bickering had become non-existent, and both men had focused their attention to the door. It was then that Broots heard it.

Heels clicking on marble.

Both heavy glass doors were shoved open before the person occupying those heels entered the room, exuding authority.

"Relax your prostates, boys," Miss Parker quipped, employing the familiar tagline. She flashed a brilliant smile at their puzzled expressions. Her smile turned almost predatory as she moved forward and placed her hand on top of Broots' head. "What's the matter?" she asked, her face pulling into a false pout. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 

Broots stammered while she chuckled and walked away from him towards the middle of the room. He knew that his jaw _had_ to be touching the floor by now. "Mi-Mi-Miss Parker? But I thought you were--"

"Dead?" she interrupted sharply, then looked him in the eyes. "Silly rabbit. You can't keep a good woman down. For long," she added coldly. She then turned to the other two men. "And what are you looking at? Let's get to work." After a momentary silence, she snapped her fingers and ordered, "Now!"

Broots jumped, stumbled out of his chair, and followed her out of the room. Sydney soon followed suit. Lyle remained in his seat, a ghost of a smile fading from his lips.

~*~

They should have all known it wouldn't have escaped his notice. The trademark noise of wheels that sounded like they hadn't been oiled since Nixon's term preceded him. It still sent a shiver down Broots' spine, however, it wasn't as horrible as he expected.

"Well, Miss Parker, I see you've decided to rejoin us after your two year furlough," Raines said as he entered. Parker, who was looking over Broots' shoulder, straightened up, turned to him, and quirked an eyebrow.

"If you want to put it that way," she murmured coolly. "But yes, I am back, so I'd appreciate it if your little lapdog found a new team to work with."

Raines stepped up toe-to-toe with her and whispered, "You do not give the orders around here. You'd do best to remember who is in charge. Mr. Parker died, and I still live."

"Some people are alive only because it's illegal to shoot them," she whispered back, not losing her resolve. "You'd do best to remember _that_."

Raines blinked once, and only once. Then he backed away. He straightened his tie and said louder, "The rules have changed, Miss Parker. You have one week to find Jarod, and bring him in. Successfully. If he gets away, the consequences will be the same as if you never caught him. Happy hunting," he sneered before walking out of the room, with Willie and Sam following. Sam lingered, however, and allowed Miss Parker a brief smile of respect before falling into position. 

Once it was just the three of them again, Parker cleared her throat. "Hear that, boys? We have one week. Let's do it right," she ordered. Then she turned to Broots and said, "Keep searching. He's out there somewhere." While she said this, she slipped a small piece of paper next to the mouse of his computer. Then she left the room, presumably to go to her office. As Broots read the note, his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Then he crumpled it in his hand and continued business as usual.

~*~  


Dusk had fallen and the stars were coming out to rest in their nightly positions when the balding man nervously approached the looming house. He gulped loudly and pushed the doorbell. Almost immediately, a man Broots did not recognize answered the door.

"You must be Broots. C'mon in, B-man. They're about ready to start."

Broots followed the odd man into the cavernous forbidden zone of Miss Parker's house. He was shown a seat upon entering the den and was then left alone. After five minutes, he was beginning to wonder why he had been brought there. Then a glass of water appeared in front of his face.

"Here," a soft, yet familiar voice murmured. He turned to see who the hand was attached to, and saw Miss Parker. He accepted the glass silently and watched as she went around in front of him and sat down across from him. She was wearing a worn pair of jeans and a large View-Askew hockey jersey tee. Her hair was pulled loosely away from her face. Her demeanor was much different than that of a few hours ago. Here, she seemed softer, happier.

"Hi, Broots," she murmured warmly, giving him a genuine smile.

"Miss Parker, I-I don't understand. What's going on?" He would have asked more, but he was stopped by a wave of her hand.

"Maybe I should explain," a deep voice said as a figure emerged from the shadows from behind Miss Parker. Broots sat up straighter and set his drink aside.

"Jarod?"

The man simply smiled as he moved forward and placed his hands on Parker's shoulders. It was then that Broots noticed the rings on their left hands.

"Miss Parker? Jarod? You're. . .you're. . .?" He wasn't able to finish. He just swallowed loudly. "That wasn't there today," he finally blurted out, pointing at what was obviously a wedding ring. 

Parker looked down at it, letting her gaze linger for just a moment, then looked up and said, "No. It couldn't have been, Broots. Do you understand why?"

"I-I think you've got some explaining to do," he said in a rare display of boldness, "Both of you."

Jarod and Parker looked at each other and laughed easily. Then they began to explain what had happened over the past two years; more importantly, the past month or so.

He took it pretty well. 

"There is no way that Lyle is a good guy!" he let out upon receiving the news concerning Miss Parker's twin.

"The walls have ears, you know," came a voice that he knew well, with the addition of a slight southern lilt. He swallowed loudly once more as none other than Lyle sat down beside him and put his arm around the nervous man. "Hey Broots, old buddy, howya been?" he asked pleasantly with a smile to match.

"Oh, man," Broots whispered, feeling sick to his stomach, "this is like the nightmare that wouldn't end!" He looked at the three of them, and then to any possible entryways. "Now you're gonna tell me that there is no man behind the curtain," he murmured to himself.

"Relax, man," Lyle offered while sending a light slap to Broots' back. "This isn't nightmare, it's reality. But it could become worse than a bad dream if this goes all wrong."

"We'll need your help," Jarod interjected, "if we're going to pull this off correctly."

"There's a DSA that we need in order to take down the Centre," Parker said.

"And I'm going to find it?" Broots asked, looking like he had just bitten off more than he could chew. 

"And now we have a time limit: one week," Parker reminded him. "So you have to be on your best game. You can do it. I know you can." She smiled warmly at him, but then her face contorted into a grimace. She sat forward and placed her hand on her stomach.

"Mel, what's wrong?" Jarod asked, moving in front of her.

She waved him away, swallowing hard and then attempting to smile again. "Just nausea. That's all." She rubbed her stomach a little harder, closed her eyes, and shook her head. Then she opened her eyes again and smiled genuinely. 

Broots looked at all three again, and then shrugged. "If I get an ulcer, I'll know who to blame," he muttered while standing up and heading for the door.

"Broots?" Parker called. She waited for him to turn around before smiling. "Thanks for helping."

If one listened closely, Broots could be heard muttering on his way out, "Now I know this is a dream. She's thanking me."


End file.
